Halo: Below the Brine
by Owen Atticus
Summary: A widow stumbles upon a hidden message left by her departed husband. Now she must find out the truth, diving headfirst into a planet's fight for independence. Set before First Contact with the Covenant.
1. Introduction

**Halo: Below the Brine**

_I had nothing. _

_No love, no joy, no peace. No boat or brine. No place to rest my tried and tired heart. _

_I had no future. _

_The galaxy tends to ruin things for you, just when you think you have them figured out. Those most precious to you are taken away in the onset of destruction. Fighting for your own life becomes the stuff of reality. But the battle is not against flesh and blood alone. This is my fight. My responsibility. _

_And I was about to make my move._

* * *

Foreword:

A widowed wife of a fallen soldier seeks to carry out her husband's last wishes after hearing the dreadful news of his death on the battlefield. She is given his last effects and stumbles upon a hidden message among the items that will lead her down paths that she'd never thought to take. A journey through the muck and mire. A journey through the most darkened places of her soul, plunging below the brine.

Alone but determined, scared yet courageous, Caitrin Lann will discover her life was meant for something more.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

A light breeze caused the flag to wave in a fluid motion that gave Caitrin Lann the impression of being underwater. The constant rainfall did little to alleviate the warm, sticky weather of western Texas. The humidity pressing down on her was compounded with the heartbreaking sadness she experienced. Caitrin had never known loss so weakening. So deafening.

Caitrin felt as if her heart had been replaced with a constant ache and an empty casing that could scarcely do the job of distributing blood to sustain her body's functions. Her stomach was a frozen tundra where wild beasts rolled across the surface in waves. Migraines plagued her night and day, limiting her to the simplest tasks of eating, sleeping, and crying.

Her head was uncovered to reveal red hair cropped close to her face, coming down to her chin, and falling just above the collar of a raincoat. The hood remained down. Caitrin wanted to feel something else besides pain, and she allowed the rain to bathe her from above. Droplets of water cascaded down her face and nose. They gathered with tears from emerald eyes to fall in the growing puddle at her feet. Sorrow and the elements becoming one on the ground.

Surrounding the stone memorial was a finely landscaped area with benches strategically placed about to offer the grieving a place to rest. Flags stood on metal poles in the rain, against protocol, flapping at random. It was noon, but the cloudy skies limited the sun to shine in a muted fashion while the heat radiated through. A variety of birds found sanctuary in a covered picnic area several dozen meters away, their songs doing little to console Caitrin.

Approaching footsteps sounded dull in her ears, though she didn't take her eyes off of the plaque that was etched in the center wall of the memorial.

The sloshing stopped and booted feet came into her view. "Mrs. Lann?"

It was an officer, that she could tell. His stance unwavering as stronger winds kicked up, causing his perfectly tailored uniform to quiver. He stood at attention as he would for a superior.

"I am she," Caitrin forced through a dry mouth.

"I was asked to give you this, Ma'am." He held out a small wooden box, carved with the Office of Naval Intelligence emblem on the top.

She brought her head up to get her first good look at the officer. He was tall and she could tell his body was in shape. His hair short and his eyes alert, looking at some distant point beyond the tree line. She glanced down at the box again and was confused, not understanding the formality or lack their of. "What is it?" she asked, pulling her hands from inside her coat's pockets.

He visibly swallowed. "Your husband's last effects, Ma'am." He nudged the box slightly closer.

Momentum kept her hands moving as another wave of near-crippling emotions washed over her. However when her hands made contact with the wooden box, Caitrin could not help but feel a small comfort from the unknown contents that lay within. She held it in both hands and slowly brought it up to her chest. "Thank you." She blinked, sending even more tears down already-drenched cheeks, and looked up into the officer's blank expression.

He saluted, then turned on his heal and left her alone.

_Alone_.

Caitrin dropped down to her knees, her long black dress soaking up the rain and mud. She closed her eyes and cried, wondering if the heavens above were weeping with her. The sounds of rainfall and the swirl of the wind were the only things she could hear. The birds had stopped their singing, and perhaps even they understood when to leave a grieving widow alone.

* * *

Caitrin climbed the steps to her second story apartment she had shared with her husband, on lease from the United Nations Space Command. She clutched the wooden box with one hand and absently groped for the railing with the other. Each step was a struggle under her weakened legs. Caitrin was of average height with an athletic build, but since being told of her husband's death, she had lost weight to the point where her clothing no longer fit her properly.

Caitrin heaved herself up the last few steps to shuffle to the doorway of her apartment. She fumbled with her identification card, but managed to get the door open before completely giving into the weight of her soaked clothes. The door shut behind her and she collapsed in the tiled entryway, sending streaks of water to flood the immediate area. She swallowed past the lump in her throat but it remained. Setting the box down on the carpet, she struggled out of her raincoat, its slick surface combating with her wet pale skin. Her anger simmered as the left sleeve refused to let go of her arm. She swore and shook her arm violently, expending all her strength till it finally let her be. _Just let me be!_ She wiped away newly cried tears.

As the apartment's environmental system kicked in the cool air, she shivered in her sleeveless dress. Caitrin knew she had to change before she would get sick, but the lack of energy from her fight with the raincoat kept her on the ground. She just wanted to sleep, wanted to rest.

_"I'll sleep when I'm dead."_

Caitrin inhaled sharply when she heard the words of Morcant inside her head. She smiled, then cried even more at the irony of her husband's usual comment when he was pressed for the luxury of sleep. She looked up across the living room to the oversized couch where they would lay down to take those late afternoon naps together, but only Morcant would rise shortly after Caitrin had fallen asleep to give her room to stretch out. Little things like that defined her husband as the caring person he was. Morcant would still open doors for her, reminiscent of ancient chivalry, and he cherished the time in between his assignments to spend every waking moment with her.

She buried her face in her hands. "Oh, how I miss you, Morcant." Caitrin knew she would see him again one day, her Faith confirmed that, but the burning inside her chest didn't ease at this reminder.

She had spent the two weeks since hearing of her husband's death moping about the apartment, getting random visits by counselors commissioned by the military to help her cope with her loss. _They didn't know Morcant. No one did._ She looked down at her hands to find them bundled up into fists and she forced them open. Her anger was on a short fuse and she had to remind herself of this. _Otherwise I'm going to snap at someone who gives me the wrong look at a supermarket._

She finally caught her breath and removed her black sandals covered in mud and bits of freshly cut grass. Placing them on the rack with her other shoes, she slowly stood. Her plain black dress dripped, adding to the puddle on the tile. She hefted a shoulder strap off her right shoulder, then her left, and the ruined dress pooled around her feet. Caitrin took two steps onto the carpet, basking in its softness, and removed her undergarments, leaving a clothing trail as she started for the bathroom. She shivered again as she walked past a register blowing cold air across her legs.

The warm shower felt exceedingly comforting to her clammy skin and Caitrin lingered there till her fingers began to pucker. The hot water mixed with the air and helped clear her sinuses along with the fog trapped in her skull. She collected her thoughts and tried to sort them out. _Grieving is a process and I need to have a goal in mind, otherwise I'll be wreck the rest of my life._ She frowned as water cascaded off her face. In her mind she could see words others had given her when her own parents had died: "Time will heal all wounds." "They're in a better place, now."

She snorted. _I was child then, but not an idiot._ _They should have known better than to think a few words in public would ease the hurt._ Caitrin was only twelve when her parents were killed in a vehicle collision, and being an only child of single-sibling parents, she was placed in foster care. She waited for the memory of their deaths to rise up and overshadow Morcant's recent departure, but her current pain overrode any other thought.

She sighed, causing water to ricochet off the glass door. _Time is what I need._

Caitrin turned off the shower and dried herself off. Securing a robe loosely around her waist, she continued to dab at her wet red hair. She stood in the hallway, glancing back and forth between the bedroom and the entryway. Then her eyes fixed on the wooden box still resting on the carpet and walked toward it. She swallowed past another lump in her throat and wrapped her hair with the towel she held. Squatting down, Caitrin picked up the memento and ran her fingers over the ONI crest, tracing every detail.

She retreated to the bedroom for a sense of unneeded privacy, and plopped down on the bed. Collecting her legs underneath her bare frame, she sat in the center of the bed with the wooden box in her lap. Preparing herself, she took a deep breath and pried the box open.

She smiled and brought a hand up to her mouth. With the other hand she pulled out her old service nametag with her maiden name etched into it. _Niko_. She had met Morcant while she was commissioned as an MP at the local base. Her eyes watered at the memory of their first date. She laughed quietly. _You were such a gentleman, Morcant. You didn't even kiss me, though we both wanted to so badly._ He had kept her old nametag after they got married as a keepsake and now it was hers again, if she so chose. Caitrin cleared her eyes and set the nametag down on the comforter.

The box's only other contents were a small envelope and a folded up piece of ONI stationary. The paper simply said, "To My . . . Dearest." She smiled again and an ache in her stomach rose up to her chest. _We never did figure out terms of endearment for each other, did we?_ Inside the fold was written, "I love you." Caitrin's eyes closed and this time she couldn't stop the tears from falling. Her shoulders shook uncontrollably and she felt the sadness seize her breath. _I love you too._

She sat weeping for a long while, taking in the day's events. She inhaled deeply and choked through the exhale. Caitrin took the towel from atop her head and dried her moistened face.

Taking the last object from the box, she opened the envelope. Out poured a pair of emerald earrings that matched the color of her eyes. Caitrin frowed as confusion contorted her features. _Earrings? I don't wear earrings._ Anger and bitterness took hold in her heart as she questioned for whom the gift was meant. _I don't even have my ears pierced._ She grabbed the folded stationary and read the front greeting. _Dearest_. Her expression soured as her hands fell to her sides in defeat. "What is this?" she hissed into the silence. _Morcant, why?_

She fell backwards on the bed, her head falling on the edge of a pillow, and she slumped on her left side. Caitrin cradled the earrings in her hands, looking at them for some sort of answer as to why her husband would desire another woman's affection. Everything about Morcant screamed faithfulness and this sudden change in perspective sought to silence those cries. She sobbed, looking at her pathetic reflection in the gemstones. All a scattered mess of conflicting emotions and depression warped by the multi-angled stone.

Then she saw something. Something beyond the gems themselves. A tiny square with her initials carved into it: CAL, Caitrin Ann Lann. _So you did mean them for me!_ She felt relieved and yet confused at the same time. _Surely you knew I didn't have my ears pierced._ She turned them over in her hands to reveal a white gold backing. She examined the two more closely, finding offsetting triangles, one raised and the other lowered on the surface. They looked like two puzzle pieces. Caitrin pressed them together and heard a rhythmic _click_. She sat back up and held the now-combined object close to her face.

A tiny burst of static erupted from the device and she pulled her head away. _What the . . . is that a voice?_ Caitrin put the object up close to the side of her head and found that it fit snuggly into her ear.

A message began to play back, loud and clear, in the voice of her husband, Morcant.

_My dear Caitrin. There is so much I long to say to you, but the recording time is short so I'll tell you this: I love you. I'm sure ONI will keep a tight lid on my current mission, but know that I was right in confronting my superiors for the possible atrocities they were to make. The Andvarians just want their peace and privacy. Is that not what we fight for? They are on the right side of the argument. I implore you, Caitrin, to seek out the truth. I do not know how much longer I have here on Andvari, but after arguing with Colonel Ross, he threatened to court-martial me. Seek out Donagh. I'm sorry I can't tell you more. I love you, Caitrin._

The last syllable was washed away with static, and Caitrin took the device out of her ear and stared at it. So many questions rose in her mind from the cryptic message. So many conflicting thoughts of grief and confusion. _Was Morcant asking me to pick up where he left off? Perhaps ONI is as infected as the local police were last year. Did he expect me to rout out corruption?_ She shook her head. _Morcant was never one to exaggerate important information; he was often straight-laced. If he says his office was in the wrong, well then I'll take his word over theirs any day._

_Where is Andvari and who is this Donagh?_ She straightened up. _And more importantly, was Morcant really killed in the line of duty or was he smudged out like a discarded cigarette?_ A new wave of anger and determination swept over her. She found herself repulsed at the idea of having her husband silenced for the things he believed, things he fought for.

And in that moment, Caitrin knew she had to find out exactly what happened to Morcant.

For her sake. For her closer. For her sanity.

She craned her neck to read the clock resting on the nightstand and sighed. _Almost midnight_. Being bombarded with information and churning emotions had completely worn her out, but below it all, she found a way of escape from her turmoil. Realizing the late hour, Caitrin felt beyond tired and she crawled under the covers. _I'll get to the bottom of this, Morcant_.

Placing the device back in her ear, she was finally able to fall asleep to the sound of her husband's voice. In her dreams, she pictured herself with a renewed sense of destiny: she would go to the ends of the galaxy to find the truth.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Standing outside the ONI complex, Caitrin looked up at the giant office building, her view momentarily blocked as the wind tossed her fiery hair in her face. Clouds still hung low in the sky, but the previous day's precipitation had unremarkably dried up from the usual afternoon heat. Triangular in construction with diamond-shaped windows, the building scaled over fifty stories tall. She had been here before, countless times, to visit Morcant while at work. She had been granted access to his midlevel office and knew the secretary that worked at the floor's lobby desk. Caitrin glanced down at her ID badge, hoping that it would still function in the building even weeks after her husband's death.

Following the crowd of employees who recently exited the nearby MagLev station, she moved through the front doors and on to the first security checkpoint. Bored-looking security guards manned full-size body scanners and their efficiency had each person spending a few seconds before being asked to move on. When it was her turn, Caitrin stepped up to the register plate and waved her badge before the reader. A nasty negative tone emitted from the device and she frowned at the not-so-unexpected buzz.

A short, balding guard waved her over to another station, still holding his disinterested expression, and held out his hand for Caitrin to give him the faulty ID badge. "When were you last here?"

"A few weeks ago," Caitrin said. "My husband, Morcant Lann, works— worked here."

He looked up quizzically. "Worked? He's not in the building anymore?"

Caitrin sighed at the guard's lack of understanding. "No, he was killed in action," she answered quietly.

"Oh," he replied through raised eyebrows. Then just as easily began hammering away at the terminal's keypad. Another beep sounded and he shrugged. "I'm sorry but your pass has been revoked due to your husband's recent status change."

_Status change?_ Caitrin's hands knotted into fists. _How dare you be so obtuse._ She opened her mouth in a retort, but the bulk of a man stepped in between Caitrin and the guard.

"That won't be necessary," a deep voice resonated. The new arrival set his briefcase down and displayed his own ID badge to the guard. Caitrin caught a peek at the name: Commander Matthew Powelson. "She can come with me."

The guard's eyes widened and he stood up from his perch on a stool behind the terminal. "Yes, Sir. But I'll still need to log her information."

Commander Powelson finally turned to face Caitrin. His graying hair and ashen eyes shadowed by the brim of a hat. He gave a polite smile that creased the lines on his tan face. "Just add her as one of my guests. I'm sure Mrs. Lann won't mind."

Caitrin didn't recognize the officer at all, but his demeanor invoked no malice or ill intentions. Confused, she was a few more seconds in answering. "No, I won't mind."

"Excellent." Powelson picked up his briefcase and motioned towards the elevators with his free hand.

The two moved past the scanners, the guard merely nodding in accommodation, and they entered an elevator with several other officers. They remained awkwardly mute the entire twenty floors up. Caitrin picked at some lint on the sleeve of her tunic, trying to ignore the towering officer to her left. A chime notified them of their destination and the two stepped out into the familiar lobby and the secretary Caitrin knew as Miss Tansky.

The young lady perked up and smiled at the Commander. "Good afternoon, Sir." Her smile softened when her eyes met Caitrin's. "Mrs. Lann, I'm sorry for your loss."

She returned the expression. "Thank you."

The double doors opened at the flip of a switch on Miss Tansky's desk. The Commander nodded in thanks and led Caitrin into a large rectangular room with rows of desks positioned in clusters of four. The overhead lighting was dim, allowing the individual terminal screens to illuminate the focused faces of ONI employees. Few, if any, paid attention to Caitrin, and without interruption, the Commander brought her into his private office situated along the far right side.

Caitrin paused just inside his office and marveled at the furnishings. The walls to her left and right were filled with antiquated books from floor to ceiling. The desk was crafted from a single piece of dark redwood and seemed large enough to land a Pelican on. The top portion of one diamond-shaped window created a triangular viewport, centered behind the desk, to view the distant forest. Two comfortable looking chairs angled in before the desk to complete the perfectly symmetrical scene.

Powelson stepped behind his massive desk and offered her either chair. "Please, sit down." He set his briefcase down on the ground and remained standing. "Would you care for a refreshment? I have a wide selection of beverages here."

Caitrin gave him a quick smile. "I imagine you do, but no, I'll be fine." She took the chair on her right and slowly sat down, allowing the material to contour to her body. Caitrin knew she should have felt more comfortable, but the graciousness the Commander had shown her could be a ruse. She remained on her guard.

Once she was settled, Powelson sat down as well and crossed his legs. "I was wondering when you would show. Your husband's death was tragic indeed, but I assumed you would have sought someone out sooner."

Caitrin lowered her gaze and looked down at her hands. "It's been a difficult time. I don't cry nearly as much as I did the first few weeks." Emotions rose up but she choked back the tightness in her throat.

Powelson nodded. "I apologize for my bluntness." He causally rested his hands in his lap. "Though I was about to seek you out if I had not heard from you by tomorrow." He sighed. "Plus, Colonel Ross has not reported in for a while, so tracking down information has been . . . difficult."

Caitrin frowned and hoped she properly hid the bitterness from her tone. "Colonel Ross? He was Morcant's department head."

"And very elusive," he added. "We still haven't been able to get a fix on his ship's current location." He made a face like he'd just said too much, but quickly turned his expression back to passive.

"Hmm." Caitrin cycled through her options. _Either the man before me is telling the truth, or he is stringing me along, seeing what I know and answering accordingly_. "So where do you integrate into all of this?"

He snorted. "I'm not entirely sure anymore." Powelson leaned back. "I worked briefly with Morcant on his first few assignments, mostly textbook intel-gathering missions on the Insurrectionists inside our own Solar System. When he switched to covert ops, I wished him well and told him to keep in touch. He is still technically associated with my department, for records keeping, of course."

Caitrin tilted her head to the side. "Funny, he never mentioned you before."

The Commander stirred. "The Office of Naval Intelligence does have to maintain an element of secrecy. You should know this, Mrs. Lann." He shook his head. "He started working under Colonel Ross about six months ago where undercover work is hardly discussed, let alone filtered down to my level." He sighed. "Colonel Ross likes to keep his cards close to his chest, but he's always able to complete a mission, often with minimal resources. And those results are what keep him in his postition."

Caitrin couldn't read the officer's eyes, but she was sure he was hiding something. "Does he know what happened to my husband?"

"Well . . ." The Commander rocked back in his chair a few times before speaking, his voice quiet. "The report said he was killed in action by Insurrectionists in the Artemus Nu System."

Frustration seeped into Caitrin's voice. "I know what the report said, but I want to know the details." She bit her lower lip. "No matter how explicit."

Powelson set his feet on the floor, placed his arms on the desk, and gathered his fingers together. "You must understand, this all very much a closed book. Operational files are never made known to the public."

"But this is my husband we're talking about!" she shouted and immediately regretted the force of her words. She started to apologize, but the Commander waved her away.

"No, it's okay." He dropped his gaze, finding a random pattern of wood grain, and traced it with his eyes. "I'm sorry, but the information I have is very limited." He met her eyes and his face froze into an impassive mask. "Unless you know something I don't."

Caitrin pursed her lips and folded her arms defensively. "I know that he didn't die at Artemus Nu."

The Commander raised an eyebrow. "Really? What else do you know?"

"Sir, you usher me up here, bypassing security, and you expect me to completely trust you?" Her voice rose as she finished her question.

His expression soured. "No, I wouldn't. But what you must understand is this: your _husband_ trusted me." His face was dead serious, and Caitrin knew Powelson's last statement was true.

Her hands began to shake in nervousness at the possibility of vulnerability. Morcant's last words were the ultimate display of confidence he had in Caitrin. He trusted she would use them wisely. She inhaled deeply and let out a long sigh. "Andvari."

Shock blossomed on Powelson's face, as if that one word could have made his heart skip a beat. "The planet Andvari?" His gaze drifted off to the side and he worked his jaw for a moment. "Where did you hear that name?" he asked, still not meeting her eyes.

"From my husband, of course," Caitrin informed, keeping her voice soft.

"Do you know where that is?"

She frowned and shook her head. "I only know that is where Morcant was."

The Commander sat perfectly still, the rising of his chest being the only sign he was alive. He raised his head and suddenly looked much older. "Mrs. Lann, if we are to continue this conversation, I must warn you, you may not like what you hear."

Caitrin raised her chin. "I'm not afraid to know the truth."

He took a moment longer to brace himself before continuing. "Andvari is a recent blunder for the UNSC." He kept his voice just above a whisper, causing Caitrin to lean in close to catch every word. "The local government decided they wanted their independence." He shook his head minutely. "While the military was set to move in troops and draw the battlefield lines, Milanó—the capital—was peacefully overthrown in a nonviolent takeover. Using words instead of weapons, the Andvarians won their independence."

Caitrin nodded. "And obviously, the UNSC didn't like that at all."

He snorted. "It was the last thing they need. You can imagine the political backlash they would have if they took over a pacified planet by force. They were left with a mess and buried the story so no news outlets would catch wind of it."

Something clicked in Caitrin's mind. "So that's why ONI brought in a team. Morcant's assignment must have had something to do with taking the planet back."

Powelson bobbed his head. "That would be my conclusion. Colonel Ross must have inserted a team, most likely he already had some men on the ground, and your husband was part of the operation."

Caitrin squinted as she recalled her husband's message. "Morcant said he confronted Ross about the 'atrocities they were to make,' and the Colonel threatened my husband with a court-martial." She straightened up in her chair, her muscles tensing, as a frightful realization struck her. "You don't think Ross had him . . . killed, do you?"

Powelson shrugged. "I don't think the Colonel would so hastily eliminate someone just to silence their opinion. The court-martial, I believe; nothing would sink a career faster. If Morcant was killed on Andvari, then the answers will be there."

Caitrin waited for him to say more, but then leaned forward. "Are you going to do anything about it?" she bit out, none to gentle.

He held his hands up defensively. "Mrs. Lann, there's little a Commander from Section I can do to thwart a Colonel from Section III."

She shot up, knocking the chair over backwards. "So you will do nothing?"

Powelson lowered his head in defeat and sighed. "Are you sure you want to go down this path?" he asked.

Caitrin was taken aback by his question. She frowned and sat down in the upright chair to her left. "I have nothing here. Morcant was the only thing in my life that mattered to me. Do you honestly think I won't go to the depths of hell to get to the bottom of this?" Searching his eyes, she could tell Powelson understood Caitrin's desires, even though she might seem fatalistic.

He sighed again and closed his eyes. "Mrs. Lann, what I tell you here is Top Secret. No civilian knows of Andvari. I'm sure the UNSC has restricted and cancelled all travel to the Sigur system altogether." He opened his eyes and for the first time, Caitrin could see the weariness behind them. "I could lose my job here for even mentioning Andvari."

"I understand."

"Perhaps you don't. The repercussions of any action taken by this office could have lasting effects on how internal matters are dealt with." He managed to crack a smile. "But I know when someone has their mind made up." He pressed a panel underneath the desk and a portion of the wooden top split open to be replaced by a terminal complete with a mid-air display. The room's lighting dimmed as the viewport polarized. A three-dimensional star chart filled the void, with each system being connected by various trade routes and slipspace vectors. A single red pulse glowed off to the Commander's left, Caitrin's right. The view zoomed in on the Sigur System, outlined in red. "You can see, Andvari is at the fringe of the outer colonies. Too isolated for efficient mining exploration to supply the inner colonies, but also too far away for anyone in an Ivory Tower to care."

He hit a few buttons on the terminal and the image shrank to a normal sized document viewer to display the ONI crest. "If you wish to find the truth, you will personally have to go to Andvari. There are too many prowling eyes watching me and my subordinates."

A chill ran up her spine as Caitrin recognized the possible outcome of her diving headfirst into a political maelstrom. _That's the last thing I want to do. But if that is what must be done . . ._ She nodded. "How can I get there?"

"That could be a little tricky." He gave a muted smile. "A small political delegation is set to depart for Andvari in a month. They are going mostly to quell the government higher-ups' fears of the Insurrectionists gaining control in the Sigur System, though I doubt any progress will be made. I could try and get you aboard as one of the crewmen." He raised his eyes. "I doubt you would want to be part of the delegation." He pressed a few keys to bring up a list of personnel and their titles, names Caitrin didn't recognize.

She felt slightly hurt by his assumption. "I'm not totally ignorant of either, though I do have some experience with starship duties."

His smile grew as he tapped his lips with a finger. "Your background as a military police officer would help you fit right in with a security detail." He entered some information into his terminal and her UNSC profile appeared between them. Her most recent picture was three months prior and showed her red hair much longer, falling to the middle of her back. She also looked heavier, healthier in the face. Her recent depression had made her look much older, even more so after cutting her hair. "You have changed, which will be good to keep you undetected. Though you might want to color your hair."

She sighed. Her fiery hair was one thing her husband loved about her. Certainly not the most, but he said it fit her spirit like a glove. "Okay. Anything else?"

"Your name." He cycled through a list of possible identities, doubtlessly ones with totally unique biometrics that she would have altered.

"Wait, that one." She pointed to a name she recognized as her great aunt's. "Taryn."

"Taryn Collin?" Powelson shrugged. "It seems a bit old fashioned, but then again, I've never heard of another 'Caitrin' before." He overlaid the information with Caitrin's own data and the new identity took shape. "I'll have your new documents to you be the end of the week, along with the necessary papers that will tell you where to go and how."

Caitrin leaned back farther in her chair as her new path formed before her eyes. All of this was happening so quickly. The message from Morcant, this "chance" meeting with Powelson, and now she was about to be put on board an ambassador's vessel to a little-known world, possibly never to be heard from again.

"I'm game." She then frowned, suddenly perplexed by the officer's kindness. "Why would you do this for me? Why take the risk?"

The Commander kept typing, postponing his answer. His fingers finally stopped and he brought his hands into his lap. He blinked several times, nearly fighting back tears. "Let's just say, I've been there before, on the edge of risking your life for the memory of someone you love dear." He brought his head up to meet her gaze and his expression softened even more. "Not all members of ONI are made of solid stone."

Even though she wanted to press him for his own story, she could read the hurt in his eyes and thought better to leave it alone. "Will you get in trouble for helping me?" Caitrin asked as she stood.

He snorted. "I sincerely doubt anyone here will give a fuss about prodding for information on some backwater planet." He stood as well. "They won't suspect a thing."

"Thank you, Commander." She thought of saluting, but being out of uniform she gave him a curt bow.

"Good luck."

She turned to go and started to pick up the chair she had toppled over, when Powelson stopped her.

"Leave it. It will hold a good story that you were angry with me." He gave her one last smile. "In fact, if you could storm out of here in disgust, it will mask any underlying connection."

"I'll do that." Caitrin headed for the door in mock anger and carried the fake emotion all the way outside the ONI building.

She turned to face the triangularly shaped tower and gave one more silent thanks to Commander Powelson. She had a month to prepare herself. She looked down at her thin arms and bony hands.

_And I better get in shape._


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The round pierced through the target, sending tiny fragments of wood to follow in its wake. _A direct hit, dead center_. Smiling to herself, Caitrin brought her M6B pistol back up into a standby position and waited for the next target to rise from the multi-layered course. The range was populated with wooden, upper-torso silhouettes arranged on poles that snapped up at random times and distances. Caitrin had always prided herself on being as good with a sidearm as Morcant; they often competing against one another on courses like this.

Another target popped up and she reflexively aimed down the sight to fire. A two-round burst struck the large bull's eye in the chest and the target retracted with a painful moan, reminiscent of a dying animal.

Caitrin had been hard at work these past several weeks, bringing her body back up to the condition it was in when she left her MP position. She had been training to the point of exhaustion and delving into her husband's library of Covert Operations Doctrine. She found most of the information tedious and long-winded, but had found many useful pointers and strategies she would desperately need to grasp and use in the coming weeks and months. Caitrin knew she was no commando ready to bust into hell and start taking names, but she had a good mind about her—situational awareness and the ability to think under pressure amounted to a lot when pressed with the heat of battle.

With a collective shudder, the dozen targets returned to their starting position, and the course reset. Caitrin exhaled and set her pistol down on the counter before her. She removed the silencer that added a slight accuracy hindrance, and popped out the expended clip.

"Nice shooting."

Caitrin spun around, turning the unloaded weapon in her hand to hold it by the barrel, and set her feet defensively. Her stance slackened when she noticed the voice coming from an off-duty marine in olive drabs leaning against the back wall of the firing range.

He put his hands up. "Whoa, easy there." He moved off the wall to stand in the space she just vacated at the shooter's spot, his gaze looking her up and down. "Haven't seen you 'round here. You new?"

She gave a sigh of annoyance and brushed past him, returning her firearm to the metallic case. "I was just leaving." She snapped the case closed and hefted it off the counter.

He sidestepped, denying her a quick exit. "Why the rush?" he asked with a casualness mostly found in overconfident dive-dwellers.

_Who does this guy think he is?_ "Do you mind? I'm heading home."

He folded his arms defiantly. "Where's home?"

She let out another exasperated breath and tried to step around him. The marine's hand clenched her left upper arm in a vise. Adrenaline flooded Caitrin's veins as she reacted without hesitation. His grip tightened and she allowed him to pull her back. She leaned into the tug and swung the bulky firearm case up and into his face. The marine tried to avoid the object by leaning to his right, but the back of the case struck his upper jaw and nose, causing him to stumble backwards. He slackened his grip on Caitrin's arm and she shook him off.

"Whad da hell wad dat for?" the marine barked furiously, holding his nose. He felt his now-bloody face, searching for missing parts.

Caitrin felt a moment's hesitation and wondered if she had overreacted. "I . . . " she frowned and took a step towards him, realizing the incident might get reported seeing as they were inside a military training facility.

The marine held one side of his nose and blew out a spray of blood that decorated the concrete floor like an abstract painting. He wiped the rest of the red liquid off his face with a sleeve and turned to face Caitrin. "If you _ever_ think you'll be allowed in here again, you are sadly mistaken." His voice was surprisingly calm as he tried to return to his earlier demeanor. "You can be sure, my CO will hear about this."

Caitrin worked her mouth for a minute. "Fine," she said, turning to leave. Weeks ago, even days, she would have apologized and tried to make things right. But now Caitrin was a changed individual, more confident and sure of herself. She wasn't about to let a thug leatherneck push her around.

"I know who you are."

She froze in mid stride, turning halfway to look at the marine. "What?" she asked with a slight tremor in her voice.

He folded his arms and despite the blood still trailing from his nose, he smiled triumphantly. "You think you're so clever, trying to be someone you're not." He took two steps forward. "You just remember, _Miss_ Lann, there are always people watching."

She turned her head to the security camera in the upper right corner of the room, its sweeping motion slow and inaudible.

"Fickle," the marine snorted. "There's eyes in places you'll never think to look."

Fear trickled into her thoughts as Caitrin watched the marine strut past her and out of the firing range complex. _Has my cover been blown already?_ She hastily wiped the blood from her firearm case with a sleeve and left through the other exit on the opposite side of the range. _Maybe not, since he used my real name_. That answer didn't bring her much comfort. She tried to keep her pace casual and steady, but the altercation had her frazzled enough that she felt as if she was speed-walking.

She would have to talk to Commander Powelson about this.

* * *

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror in a sleeveless top, Caitrin stared at her new appearance. Being a redhead all her life, she was amazed at the difference the jet-black hair made. The color was so dark, that at certain angles it looked blue when the light hit just right. She had informed Commander Powelson of the new look she would acquire so he could forge the appropriate new identity, minimizing the window of discovery by other ONI inquiries.

With the strands of hair still wet after rinsing out the permanent dye, she picked up the scissors off the marble sink's edge. Taking a deep breath, she started trimming her hair shorter, hacking randomly to attempt a professional-looking cut. Clumps began to fall into the sink and Caitrin couldn't help but think she was casting away more of herself than just hair. Part of her embraced the change, wanting to make a clean start. But the other part was slow to accept her new identity and longed to remain in her sorrowful state.

After several minutes, she wet her hair again to get rid of the loose locks. Drying off with a towel, she grabbed a few bobby pins from a drawer and fastened down the hair in front. Caitrin admired her handiwork, thinking others would find her hairstyle 'cute', and checked the time on her wristwatch. 10:17 PM. _Crap_.

She was supposed to meet Commander Powelson at the old Moss Medical Facility downtown at 10:30, where he would give her the last set of documents and a security officer's uniform. Caitrin went to her closet and grabbed her dark-gray coat and chunky black boots to complete her outfit. She also fitted a shoulder holster so her M6B would fit comfortably under her left armpit for easy access. It had been a week since her encounter with the bloody-nose marine and she carried out her life with caution but not so much as to seem too suspicious. In a previous meeting with Powelson, she had given the Commander a sample of the marine's blood to find out who he was. When Powelson told her the DNA match led to a restricted file in the ONI database, she had her answer: Section Three was on to her. They both decided to meet right before she was to depart with the delegation in hopes that if anyone discovered Caitrin's intentions they would be too late to do much of anything.

_Hopefully_. She grabbed her chatter and headed out the door.

Fifteen minutes later, Caitrin got off the MagLev and hurried down the metal stairs to ground level. The streetlights burned dull amber, casting eerie shadows on the path that led to Moss Medical. Caitrin could see the small garden area resting just outside the old entrance: their designated rendezvous. Pausing at the edge of the pavilion, she doubled back and circled the outer sections of the facility, looking and listen for hidden observers. When her search came up empty, she ducked into the gazebo located in the center of the dimly lit garden area. A moment later, Caitrin heard footsteps.

"Waxing," she challenged.

"Glowing." Powelson emerged from the darkness with the appropriate response, signaling he was not under duress. He was likewise dressed in dark, non-reflective clothing. He gave one last visual sweep of the area before sitting down with Caitrin. Without preamble he fished a small packet bound with string from inside his bulky coat and handed it to Caitrin. "Here's everything you'll need," he whispered.

She took the packet, looking it over without opening it. Datacards, Passports, Credits—quite a bit, actually— and a pressed Skyline Transport Security Detail uniform. She finally did pull out the ID card and examined the photo's likeness to her own. She snorted. "Wow, you actually got a good match."

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I do have some knack in the art of espionage." His expression turned to a glumness Caitrin had not seen before, one barely visible in the shadows of the gazebo. "I'm afraid I've done all I can for you, Mrs. Lann. Once you're out of UNSC-controlled space, you're on your own."

"On my own," she said ominously. "I've been there, Commander."

The silence lingered a few more heartbeats till Powelson patted Caitrin on the knee and stood up. "I have no doubt Section Three will be watching you. I'm not sure how, maybe they'll have their own people onboard the delegation, but just remember this: Trust no one." He turned his head, looking out across the garden, so a sliver of pale orange light crossed over one side of his face. "Trust no one." With a final nod, he was gone, lost in the darkness.

* * *

With her duffel bag packed full of the necessary items, Caitrin waited inside the Ft. Stockton Railway Station for the MagLev train to arrive. Wearing her ersatz security uniform underneath a long raincoat, she could not shake the feeling of being watched at this early hour. It was 5:30 in the morning, just seven hours after her meeting with Powelson, and the people trickling in through the security gates were few. Caitrin kept her head low, as she sat on a bench, counting the seconds till the arrival of her train that would take her to the spaceport in Houston.

An elderly couple holding hands approached her from the right, and the older man helped his ailing wife sink into the spot on the bench next to Caitrin. Both were wrapped in layers, despite the uncomfortably warm interior of the station, but neither seemed to complain as they smiled at one another. The husband remained standing, as a new figure entered the scene, a younger man, probably in his late teens. Probably a grandson. The teen stumbled with several bags of luggage, nearly dropping one on Caitrin's foot, and he gave an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, Ma'am." He situated the luggage into a pile next to the bench and wiped his sweating forehead. "That's all of 'em grandpa."

The older gentleman's face scrunched up in a lack of understanding. "That small?"

"No, grandpa," the boy said, leaning in closer, "that's all."

"Oh." He elongated his expression and nodded. "Thank you, Thomas."

Caitrin smile and rose from her seat. "Sir?" she asked loudly to make sure the elderly man could hear her, "would you care to sit down?"

The young man perked up. "Why thank you, Ma'am."

The previously unmoving old woman smacked her grandson away. "Manners, Thomas."

The old man shook his head. "No, I'm fine, Miss. But thank you." He scowled at Thomas and retrieved an old-fashioned pocket watch from the inside of his coat. He checked the minute, then returned the timepiece to his pocket and patted it. "The train is late."

Caitrin sat back down and checked the time herself. _5 minutes past due_. Public mass transit being late was nothing new under the sun, but a MagLev was so punctual, you could set your watch by it. Nervousness started to seep into her consciousness and Caitrin gripped her bag tighter, the leather straps creaking as she did so.

"Don't worry, Miss," said the old woman, patting Caitrin on the arm. "I get a little scared of these crazy machines as well."

Caitrin looked down at the elderly hand, creased with wrinkles and wearing a wedding ring. She gazed at the ring, seeing her tiny convex reflection in yellow gold, and wondered if she would ever get to a point in her life where fast-moving transportation was all she feared. Here was this couple, full of days and memories, and Caitrin found herself fighting an emotion. Jealousy. Jealousy for the love and joy the couple obviously shared, and for her apparent lack there of. Caitrin closed her eyes to try and force away the bitterness. _If my emotions aren't in check, I'll end up reacting rather than thinking my way through this whole ordeal._ She rose from the bench and nodded to the three. "I'll go check with the station manager. Perhaps he knows when—"

The rumbling sounds of steel running against steel echoed throughout the giant chamber and the Green Line pulled up to stop with a hiss. It was a moment before passengers began departing, mostly business men and women on their way to work, and when all were clear, Caitrin grabbed her bag and entered the third car down. She noticed the elderly couple and Thomas had taken their seats in the car behind her own, and Thomas waved a hand. She smiled and sat down in the last row to the right. Caitrin could hear the grandmother say, "Leave her alone, she's fine up there," followed by an exasperated sign from the teen.

_At least this leg of the journey will be short_. She leaned back and found the hardened headrest to be stiff and uncomfortable. She took off her jacket, bundled it up, and placed it behind her head to use as a makeshift pillow. Several minutes later, the train started moving and Caitrin closed the blinds and tried to relax.

She was about to close her eyes when motion for the front of the car stole her attention. It was a tall man with a thick neck wearing the same Skyline Transport Security Detail outfit she was—and he was heading her way. She did a quick scan of the car itself and found no one else was with them, whether by misfortune or design, as her stomach began to grow cold.

He looked in her direction and Caitrin could see recognition in his eyes. A smile spread across his face, all sinister-looking. He took the seat to her left, the last row on an otherwise empty car, and turned to face her. "Well, what do we have here? What are the odds that two STSD employees would be on the same MagLev?" he asked sarcastically.

Caitrin brought her left hand up to retrieve her jacket from behind her head, hoping to mask the movement of her right hand towards her sidearm sling. "Yeah, what a coincidence," she said blandly. "This early, I thought I would be all alone." She almost had her M6B in her hand—

"Don't." The big man tapped the protruding end of a barrel Caitrin hadn't noticed sticking out underneath his luggage. "You aren't _that_ fast."

She lowered her hands to rest them in her lap. "Maybe." Her mind raced as she tried to think of something to do, but a quick breeze washed over her face and both looked up to see an attendant making her way down the aisle with a ticket scanner in her hand. Caitrin looked back to the thug and he gave an abbreviated shake of the head that told her not to try anything. _Yeah, right_.

The petite young woman smiled warmly and said, "tickets, please." She then glanced back and forth between the two. "Oh, it looks like you found her, sir," the attendant added with a tiny voice. She stood in the aisle and motioned for Caitrin to wave her ticket before the scanner.

_Here's my chance_. Caitrin patted each pocket of her uniform, exaggerating worry on her face and said, "I think I left it in my bag." She quickly stood up, causing the attendant to take a step back and temporarily block the tall man's view. Caitrin was a blur as she threw open the rear doors and stepped into the adjoining restroom section Cars 3 and 4 shared. She struggled to find an open lavatory and panic rose to find a home inside her chest.

"Hey!" both the attendant and the man yelled simultaneously. The thug pushed the petite woman to the ground and took three long strides to reach Caitrin.

She tried to pull out her pistol, but the man swatted away her right hand and gripped her neck, lifting her a few centimeters off the ground. The thug was fast, slamming her head back against a lavatory door, and stars exploded before her eyes. Caitrin reached up to pry his fingers loose, but his hold began to tighten, limiting her breath. She brought her knee up to strike at his groin, but the man turned and took the blow on the hip. She started to gasp for breath.

"We let you go a little too far, didn't we?" the thug asked through clenched teeth. "You're never going to make it aboard that transport."

Suddenly the lavatory door to Caitrin's right swung open in force to smack the thug on the side of the head. He blinked and loosened his grip on Caitrin. The metal door struck again, sending Caitrin's assailant to the ground with her falling on top. Finding her strength, she jabbed him with a fist just below his ribcage then pulled out her M6B and whipped his left temple with the butt of her gun, causing a small cut to form along his hairline. The thug's eyes rolled back into his head and his body slumped. Caitrin rolled off and gasped for breath, clutching the redness on her neck.

"Is he dead?"

She looked up to find Thomas still holding the door handle, ready to use his improvisational weapon in case the attacker rose again. She laughed through labored breaths. "No, he's out cold. Thanks for the assist, by the way."

The teen looked at the motionless body, then at the door he still held. "You're welcome, Ma'am," he said, as pride filled his words. "Are you okay?"

She swallowed with some difficulty, but found the sensation bearable. "I'll be fine."

The attendant stood in the open doorway with a shocked look on her face. Her gaze met Caitrin's and her eyes grew wide. "Are you hurt?"

"I'll be fine," she repeated, as she stood up.

"What is this all about?" demanded a new voice behind Caitrin. It was a man dressed in a rent-a-cop uniform, obviously the hired security for the Green Line. _Much good it did me ten seconds ago_. He planted his hands on his hips, waiting for a reply.

An idea popped into her head and Caitrin explained. "My fellow employee here had a few too many drinks last night. He wasn't in his right mind when he reacted." She shrugged. "Best to let him sleep it off."

The uniformed man frowned. "Well, I'm sorry Ma'am, but I'll have to take him back to the holding compartment." He turned to talk into his comm unit, asking for assistance.

Caitrin winced. "Okay, but for his own good." She squatted down and checked his pulse while pulling his ID badge from inside his back pocket. She opened it causally to recite his full name to the security officer, all the while leafing through the cards beneath the plastic holder. _There it is_. An ONI passcard, similar to the one she had been given by Powelson. _So Section Three _did _have their own infiltrator on the delegation security team_. She hid the card inside her sleeve and handed the rest of the ID sheath to the rent-a-cop.

He nodded in appreciation. "Thank you Miss . . ."

"Collin. Taryn Collin." She turned from the gathering crowd of security officers and stepped over the thug's body. She found her ticket inside her left back pocket and held it before the attendant, acting surprised. "It seems I had it on me all along."

Passively, the woman scanned the ticket, mostly watching Security haul off the attacker. "Have a nice trip."

Caitrin smiled and walked back to her seat, suddenly exhausted, and heard the clumsy footsteps of Thomas behind her. The teen boy was following her like a lost puppy. She internally sighed when he sat in the seat across the aisle, giving her a big smile.

_At least this leg of the journey will be short._

* * *

At the Houston Spaceport, she stood at the loading ramp of the 180-meter yacht called _Emissary_. The sleek design spoke of its use as a political vessel, meant to give a soothing image without any harsh lines. Compressed air jetted out from underneath as mechanics did a final examination of the keel. A small shuttle craft was attached with a docking collar, but was painted in the same gray color as _Emissary_, blending the two ships together.

The commanding security officer checked Caitrin's ID and nodded with acceptance. "Welcome aboard, Officer Collin." He glanced back and forth, sweeping the entire hangar with his eyes. "Have you seen Jensen? Tall, thick neck, kind of an ogre?" He sighed. "He hasn't checked in yet. Didn't he come by your way, out West?"

She frowned and shook her head. "Haven't seen him. Maybe he's still sleeping," she suggested. Caitrin walked past him up the ramp and couldn't help crack a smile.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Here's where you will be staying."

Caitrin stepped into the small, confined room, barely able to squeeze past the ensign. Two beds took up half the space to her left, one stack upon another, the right side of the room contained a small desk with a simple terminal and chair, and a closet with a single shelf ran along the right wall. Caitrin forced a smile. "Cozy." She set her duffel bag down on the lower bed and turned in a circle to encompass her quarters. "Who else is staying here?"

The ensign, a lanky, pale man with blond hair, lifted up the list of passengers he had attached to a clipboard and squinted. "Maya Barros," he informed her, enunciating the name with an imitated accent. He looked up and shrugged. "She's the only other woman on staff."

"Great." _Two women to the entire ship. That pretty much guarantees we'll be singled out for all sorts of things._ "Anything else?"

The light-skinned ensign passed her a datacard. "Your orders and assignments. I'm afraid you start immediately. The Ambassador is scheduled for a tour of the ship in 15 minutes and you'll be part of his escort."

"Thank you," she said, and set the card on the desk.

He left, leaving Caitrin with a brief respite to unpack. A rap on the door came a minute later. "Come in."

The door opened to reveal a short, slender woman, roughly in her mid to late thirties, decked out in a full security uniform complete with a brimmed cap. She had a bag similar to Caitrin's in her right hand and a candy bar in her left, half eaten. The Hispanic-looking woman raised an eyebrow. "You my roommate?"

"Guess so. My name's Taryn," she said and extended a hand of greeting.

She dropped her bag and took Caitrin's hand in a firm grip. Her hands were rough and dry, and from first impressions, Caitrin wondered if this would match her demeanor. "Maya." She snorted and looked over the tiny room. "As big as this tin can is, you would think we'd have better accommodations." She looked at Caitrin's bag on the bottom bed and shook her head. "What's this? I'm probably twice your age and you expect me to take the top bunk?"

"No, not at all," Caitrin apologized hastily. "I didn't know who else would be here."

Maya glared at her for a moment, then a smile blossomed on her face. "Relax, kiddo." She slapped Caitrin on the back. "If it's just you and me to represent the women, then we have to stick together, don't we?"

"Yeah," she laughed uneasily.

Maya brought her head down. "But seriously, you take the top."

"Gotcha." Smiling, she picked up her duffel bag and tossed it up to the top bunk. "I'm due to escort the Ambassador around the ship. You coming with me?"

The older woman plopped down on the hard bed, hitting her head against the back wall. "Ouch." She propped herself up on her elbows, rubbing the back of her head. She loosened her ponytail, sending long black curls to fall like a curtain, then retied it. Caitrin could tell Maya was a rough individual, but beneath her hard exterior, even though she couldn't explain it then, Caitrin would bet Maya had a good heart. "Nope. I'm not due for duty rotation till tomorrow morning." She frowned and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, narrowly avoiding another encounter with a hard surface to her head. "They skimped on the bedding too."

Caitrin sat down in the room's only chair. "Well, we probably won't be spending too much time here, right? I mean we'll probably head to the cryo-pods in a couple days if were really heading to the fringe of the outer colonies."

Maya frowned. "How do you know where we're going?"

Heat rose to Caitrin's face as she realized she had said something she thought was common knowledge. "I overheard some techs talking with each other," she lied.

Suspicion remained on Maya's face for a few more seconds, then it evaporated. "Whatever. I'll believe it when I hear it." She brought her chin up. "When is the Almighty Ambassador touring his grand vessel?"

Caitrin looked down at her watch and gasped. "In about five minutes." She grabbed her cap from the closet and tucked some loose strands of hair inside. "How do I look?"

Returning to her candy bar, Maya awkwardly shrugged. "Maybe lose some of the makeup. You don't want any older men falling for you."

Caitrin gave a soured smile. "Thanks. You already following that tip?"

"Ow." Maya clutched her chest, simulating a painful wound. "That stings," she commented sarcastically. She looked down at her uniform to find a new chocolate stain. "Crap." Licking her finger, she dabbed at the dark brown spot.

Caitrin struggled to keep from laughing. "You got that?"

"Get out of here," she chuckled. "Regardless of how long we're here, I'm going to try and make the best of this place."

Caitrin gave a casual salute and stepped out into the hallway.

* * *

As first impressions go, Caitrin Lann determined that Ambassador Herod Thorin reeked of arrogance. The corpulent man wore a snug suit that looked as if it was tailored at the start of his career and never adjusted for his expanding middle. With thinning brown hair and gray starting to color his temples, he radiated the perfect image of a life-long politician taking one more post in hopes of retaining some sort of power. He made no pretense of being large, often patting his belly with both hands as a sign of contentment, as an engineer described the Engine Room. This section of the ship was all grated walkways and piping filled with various fluids and coolant, and the technician had to speak over the clanking of tools and complaining shouts of poor manufacturing.

"The shielding has recently been replaced," the engineer informed the group, patting the stainless steel casing. "There won't be any problems with radiation leakage."

Herod merely nodded and motioned with his hand for the captain of _Emissary_ to move on.

Captain Robert Abbott gave a courteous smile, one Caitrin could see was forced, and inclined his head to the engineer. "Thank you, Mr. Evans, for the information. We'll be lifting off shortly."

The engineer saluted and returned to his duties. His clothes were stained from sweat, but it was difficult to tell if his perspiration was from the raised temperature of the Engine Room or being under the scrutiny of a political figure. Caitrin wagered on the latter.

The tour group consisted of Captain Abbott leading the way, followed by an STSD guard Caitrin had not met yet, the Ambassador and his aide, and finally Caitrin and another guard brought up the rear. One guard in particular seemed to be ex-military, and wore an expressionless mask ceaselessly. They had formed up in the hangar, relinquishing the posts of other government security, and were led about by the Captain. The tour, which anyone with a brain stem could see was an inspection by the Ambassador, was nearly complete and would end at the bridge where Captain Abbott would announce their destination to the crew.

They made one last stop at the Ambassador's lavishly furnished suite, Herod merely accepting his quarters with a faint smile as if he was expecting something more extravagant, and the group entered the bridge of _Emissary_. The layout of the bridge was as practical as one could design. Consoles and terminals, angled so the Captain could view the screens of the station operators, surrounded a raised command chair in the center. Most of the crewmen didn't notice the new arrivals till Abbott cleared his throat.

"Captain on the bridge," announced the first officer from the crew pit. He turned to Abbott and saluted.

Caitrin saw the pride on the Captain's face as the bridge crew stood and snapped to attention. "As you were. Andrews, status?"

The first officer quickly scanned the tour group with a glance then nodded. "Sir, we're ready for departure at your leisure. We have clearance from Houston Ground Control and the cargo hold is secure."

"Very well." Captain Abbott retrieved his comm unit from the command chair and thumbed it on. "Ladies and gentlemen of the political envoy _Emissary_," his voice boomed over the ship's speaker system. "Ambassador Thorin is on board and we are clear for departure." He took a deep breath as he turned to face the Ambassador. "Our destination is the Sigur System and more specifically, the planet Andvari."

Crewmen around the bridge exchanged quizzical looks. Caitrin feigned surprise, already knowing just how far they were going to go, but maintained her composure just as a trained security officer would.

"It will be a long journey," Abbott continued, "and once we've entered Slipspace, all non-essential personnel will be sent to the Cryo-Chamber for the duration. Regular protocols will be in effect for the remaining crew. For security reasons, that is all you need to know at this time."

"Excuse me, Captain Abbott." Herod stepped towards the Captain with a hand out. His back was to Caitrin, but she could read his body language well enough to know he wanted something. "May I say a few words?"

Abbott looked puzzled at the unorthodox request. He lowered the comm and handed it to Herod. "Of course, Ambassador."

Herod clipped the comm unit to the collar of his suit and began to pace the bridge in an animated fashion, like he was dictating a letter to a friend.

Caitrin found it most annoying.

"This is Ambassador Herod Thorin. You may not care for political delegations, but rest assured that if our mission is successful, a crisis will have been averted and lives will be saved. While swords and shields may win battles, a silver tongue can prevent them." He gave a short chortle. "If my words are as smooth as _Emissary__'_s pre-flight check, we'll be back home in no time." He unclasped the comm from his collar and handed it back to Abbott. The Ambassador returned to his spot in the middle of his entourage with his aide nodding in approval.

_Politicians never stop playing politics_. Caitrin closed her eyes and pursed her lips for a second before the wave of anger finished washing over her.

Captain Abbott spoke into his comm once more. "All hands, prepare for launch." He walked over to the Ambassador and his aide, lowering his voice. "Would you care to remain on the bridge for the initial leg of our trip?"

Herod smiled and shook his head. "No thank you, Captain. I've seen the stars before." He consulted with his aide in low tones, too low for Caitrin to hear. "I believe I will follow your recommendation and retreat to my quarters. Please send a tech to secure my cryo-pod, as I will be entering it shortly."

Caitrin breathed a small sigh of relief at Herod's last statement. _If he's going into deep freeze this soon, then they'll cut the security staff down to just a simple rotation of two guards outside his suite. That may will win him some points with the crew . . . if his ego doesn't ruin it for him._

Abbott nodded to Herod. "I'll send for our lead technician. Do have a pleasant sleep and we'll thaw you out when we're a few days away."

"Thank you for your hospitality, Captain."

The security guards situated themselves and escorted the Ambassador out of the bridge. Caitrin was so busy she didn't even notice when _Emissary_ had lifted off. It wasn't till after the lead tech arrived at the Ambassador's suite and secured Herod into his pod that Caitrin was relieved. At first she didn't believe his plumb form would fit into the cryo-pod, but it was obviously a custom fit.

Pausing outside her shared quarters, Caitrin could hear shouting and pressed her ear against the door. Straining to make out the muffled voice, she listened.

It was Maya, clearly upset. "No, don't worry about it. I told you I've got if covered! I'll let you know when it's done, okay?"

For all she could make out, Maya was the only one in the room. Caitrin gave a short rap on the door and opened it. Maya was hunched over in the chair, her face contorted in anger. Caitrin shut the door and noticed Maya's chatter on the small desk. "Everything okay?" she cautiously asked.

"Oh, hey, Taryn," she responded, keeping her gaze on some spot on the floor. Maya shook her head and sat upright, returning to her usual, lighthearted self. "What's up?"

Caitrin took off her cap, tousled her hair, and then sat on Maya's bed. "I heard you yelling," she said with concern.

"Oh, that?" Maya waved her hand to dismiss the topic as unimportant. "Just trying to settle some family matters while I still have a chatter signal." She tossed the communication tool on the bed beside Caitrin. "You know how family can be."

_Family_. Dwelling on the word, she blinked and strained a smile. "Yeah, I know." Caitrin tugged her uniform's top button free and loosened the collar. "Oh, yeah. His Excellency has decided to spare us his presence and lock himself in the freezer."

"Well that's good news, right?"

"Maybe for you, but us new STSD additions will probably have to maintain the security detail till everyone else gets loaded up in the Cryo-Chamber." As she explained the situation, Caitrin found herself annoyed as much as she would have if she truly were employed by Skyline Transport Security Detail. Using a shipboard AI would make total sense, but being a political vessel, _Emissary_ had opted for the computer-based/ personnel maintenance schedule. While in Slipspace, a skeleton crew was necessary to oversee the ship's functions and Cryo-Chamber status. In long increments, depending on the length of the entire trip, the crew would rotate so others would be able to replace those in cryo-sleep. Caitrin hoped she and Maya fell into their own group that would take the first span of several days, working 12-hours shifts. _It would be nice to have someone to talk with . . ._

"Eh, I may be older than you, but I still haven't spent that much time with Skyline." Maya dug some dirt from underneath a fingernail. "I know you probably won't believe it, but I used to be in the Corps," she said, still distracted with her dirty fingernail.

"You were a Marine?" Caitrin sat up. "How long ago?"

Maya look a little astonished at her roommate's interest in her past. "Well, you remember the Philithros Rebellion?" she asked.

Caitrin searched her memory and came up blank. "No, I don't."

"Hell, it was probably before you were in secondary school." Maya shook her head. "Small asteroid belt around a distant moon in some God-forsaken system. It was a crazy time, fighting the Innies, hoping they would just give up. My unit was decommissioned after we suffered 90 percent losses in a single engagement." Maya frowned, and to Caitrin's astonishment, she saw a wave of emotional distress wash over the older woman's face. "After that, I was honorably discharged and sent back home."

Caitrin watched her roommate closely. Maya was distracted and was keeping something from her, but Caitrin felt compelled to probe Maya's vulnerability. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked hesitantly.

Maya looked up, batting her brown eyes. And just as if a light switch was hit, Maya's posture slackened and she waved off the concern. "Maybe later. I don't want to bore you with history you were obviously never taught."

The terminal buzzed an alert and Maya brought the message up on the display. She angled the screen so both could view it. "We've entered Slipspace already," Maya read and skimmed down the page. "Crap."

"What?" Caitrin asked, standing up for a better look at the message.

"Updated duty roster." Maya snapped her finger. "Looks like I'm stuck with you."

She raised an eyebrow. "And that's bad because?"

"I was looking forward to getting my beauty sleep." Maya raised a hand to fan herself and took on the accented voice of someone from a very rural area. "Did you not notice that security officer with the UNSC tattoos on his neck? He was roguishly handsome, if I could be so frank."

Caitrin laughed. "You mean that stiff, uptight ex-military guard that was in my group?" She rolled her eyes. "You can have him, he looked too secretive for my taste." She laughed again at the irony of her own statement.

"Well, just think: we would have so much in common! We could talk about our time in the service, exchange war stories, and show each other our scars." She slowly brought her voice back to normal, almost serious, and smiled at Caitrin. "Taryn, when you've seen as much as I have, you take what you can get."

"Yeah."

She stood up and smacked Caitrin on the right thigh. "Since the duty roster has changed, my shift starts in twenty minutes. You want to get something to eat before I go?"

"By 'something' you mean a prefabricated meal provided by our wonderful employer?"

"Sure. You game?"

"Yeah, just give me a second." Caitrin unfastened the rest of the buttons on her top and pulled it off, revealing a white tank top underneath. She tugged the tank top free from her slacks and reset the sleeveless cotton shirt to drape over the standard-issued belt. Undoing the holster containing her shockstick, binders, and ID, she tossed it on top of her bed. "Let's go."

Maya looked her over and reeling her head back. "Taryn, if you think you're going to maintain a low profile as a woman, you are sure as hell going to turn heads showing that much skin."

Caitrin held her hands out, examined herself, and snorted when she noticed how little the tank top covered. Caitrin blushed. She had always prided herself on her modesty, but being in the company of another woman, she apparently misplaced it for the time being. She hoisted up the straps, but it didn't do any good. She sighed and pulled a jacket from the closet, zipping it up all the way to her throat. "Better?" she asked, her face still red.

Maya laughed and pushed Caitrin to the door by the shoulders.

* * *

After a quick meal and more chitchat, Maya and Caitrin parted ways. Caitrin took her time heading back to her shared quarters, dreading the loneliness she would experience. A month prior she would have longed to be segregated from society, but now the thought of being alone overrode any anxiety she had towards company. She passed several crewmen already stripped down to the waist in preparation for the cryo-pods. Most paid her no attention, but some smiled and Caitrin could feel their eyes on her after they had passed by.

Entering her room, she crashed down on Maya's bed and immediately regretted doing so. The mattress was indeed hard and thin and did little to cushion the occupant. She kicked off her boots and stretched her tired muscles. Not realized how tired she was, Caitrin stifled a yawn and sat up. She finished undressing herself and hopped up onto her top bunk. With a sigh, she accepted the firm mattress and pillow, taking it as one more endurance test on this hopefully uneventful trip.

Turning off the lights, she closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

When she did finally fall into slumber, her dreams were filled with visions of Morcant. They were not sorrowful imaginings, but ones of her husband coming to her rescue and fighting off hordes of enemies, embracing her all along. But then one enemy materialized into Colonel Ross wielding a gigantic club that swung in a high arc to strike Morcant on the side of the head. In the vision, Caitrin held her husband in her lap as he lay bleeding and moaning. The outline of the Colonel overshadowed Morcant's face and then a scream erupted.

Caitrin bolted upright, breathing raggedly. She switched the lights back on and squinted at the brightness. She reached up to massage her throat, but found no soreness. Then another scream rang out and she lept out of bed. _That was from outside_. Grabbing her STSD gear holster and her issued jacket, she dipped into her boots, not bothering to tie them, and stepped out into the hallway. A fellow security guard ran past, kicked up a slight breeze that ruffled her pajama pants. "What's going on?" she asked the running man.

"Problem in the Cryo-Chamber," he shouted back. He ducked down another hallway and left Caitrin to follow in his wake.

When they arrived at the scene, Caitrin eased her way through the crowd and found the commanding security officer off to the side. Fellow guards maintained a perimeter around a moaning figure lying on the ground. "Situation, Sir?"

The head of security, which looked to be woken up as well, shook his head in bewilderment. "A cryo-pod malfunctioned." He beckoned the crowd back as more security personnel escorted the arriving medical team. "One of the crewmen was severely injured."

Caitrin craned her neck to look over the officer's shoulder. The naked crewman was on his side, shaking, and covered with puckered, red flesh. The medical team delicately lifted the burn victim up on a stretcher and placed a cloth over his torso to preserve his modesty. They carried him out of the chamber and the crowd began to slowly disperse. Caitrin looked into the open pod, already being swarmed with curious technicians, and frowned. "How did his pod malfunction?"

Another security guard marched up, the one with the tattooed neck, and stood stiffly before them. "Sir, the Ambassador is still safely in his pod with no signs of any tampering."

Caitrin jaw dropped. "Are you saying this was intentional?" she asked, pointing to the opened cryo-pod.

The tall, tattooed guard looked down his nose at her. "An investigation should always factor in all probabilities, no matter how implausible."

The commanding officer frowned. "It seems the cryo-computer cycled through the freezing and thawing process several times in a matter of minutes, giving the crewman 'freezer burn,' without the aid of sedatives."

Caitrin shivered at the thought of being trapped in a pod while unconscious then awoken to immense pain, only to be frozen again and to reawake in even more agony. She swept her gaze across the chamber and mentally counted the others still in pods, oblivious to the events being played out on the other side of the glass. "What about them? Are they safe?"

The officer wore the same expression but nodded his head. "The techs assure me that the computer glitch was a single-use breach in the system. I'll alert the security team of any new information when the new duty assignments get posted."

"A new roster?" Caitrin asked.

"Of course." The officer parted the two guards as he walked between them. "We're going to need more man-hours on this than what we already have scheduled." He turned to face the ex-military man and Caitrin; his face was as serious as she'd ever seen it. "This ship has just turned into a crime scene," he said quietly. "And the possibility of a saboteur cannot be discounted."


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The commanding security officer, James Howell, began issuing orders later that evening. After speaking with Captain Abbott, the two rounded up every person on board that wasn't already in cryo-sleep into the mess hall. Most were still groggy from being woken up in the middle of the night, but when Howell informed everyone of the incident, it seemed to sober them up.

Both men stood before the hushed crowd as Abbott spoke first. "Right now, we are just playing it safe, but the latest news is this: Ensign Walters is in stable condition and the doctors say he will make a full recovery. While the lead medical officer is assuring epidermal regeneration is possible, we don't have the facilities on board to start the procedure." He nodded to Howell.

James Howell was of average height and weight with a mop of shaggy red hair poking out from underneath his cap. The middle-aged man folded his arms and panned the crowd. Caitrin felt his gray eyes lock on to hers briefly before moving on. "You are here because of all personnel that are stationed on this ship, you are the only ones that had access to the Cryo-Chamber."

An engineering specialist raised his hand. "But what about before the ship left its berth? Couldn't anyone have tampered with the pods before we were ever on board?"

Howell shook his head. "We didn't have the pod assignments yet, and the computer was locked." He shuffled to his left. "Until further analysis, we are sustaining our lockdown."

That comment elicited some moans from the crowd and Captain Abbott waved down the concern. "With everyone's cooperation, this will go very quickly." Howell leaned and whispered into Abbott's ear, and the Captain nodded. "Officer Howell will need to see all security personnel now, if there are no more questions. None? Dismissed."

Caitrin remained seated, as a fellow passenger stood and muttered something under his breath. She could feel the tension in the room remain despite the population thinning. She looked around the mess hall and noticed Maya sitting at a table by herself. She tried to get her roommates attention, but Howell cleared his throat, bringing Caitrin's eyes to his.

"Okay, now down to business." Howell pulled out a computerized tablet and began listing off bullet points. "The current staff on duty will remain as such for another half shift."

"I assume we'll be paid overtime?" asked a guard sitting a few tables behind Caitrin.

Howell shifted his weight, contemplating the question, then slowly nodded. "Yes, but keep in mind we will be running on full alert until this is sorted out. You may like the pay, just not how you get it."

The inquiring guard snorted. "As long as it shows up on the check stub, I don't mind."

The chief security officer flashed a wry smile. "Well, I'm glad you approve." He took a deep breath before moving on. "I went over the details of the incident with some of the technicians and we found something very odd." He brought a booted foot up to rest on the bench of the nearest table and spoke softly. "The rogue program was inserted with a randomizer, thereby making any prediction of the intended mark impossible. The glitch wasn't even suppose to cause as much damage as it did, but a feedback loop ensued, thus resulting in the severity of the wounds."

Caitrin raised her hand and Howell acknowledged her. "What about this Ensign Walters. Does anything from his record stick out?"

Howell looked down at his tablet and shook his head. "He's a low-level communications technician, maintenance for the in-ship comm gear, nothing too vital."

The UNSC-tattooed guard— Kinnison, Caitrin finally remembered— detached himself from the wall to her left and leaned over the end of Caitrin's table. The table creaked at the weight of his muscular frame. "I don't think Walters, or anyone in particular was targeted. The real question is who would want to randomly harm someone in the freezer."

Howell placed his tablet on the table and rubbed a hand over his face to wipe some of the tiredness away. "That's a valid point, but what we also need to look at is who among those with the access could engineer such a program and install it undetected."

Caitrin started to pan the gathered security guards to see if Howell's last statement made anyone appear nervous or anxious, but she was met with the same inquisitiveness in return. _Could ONI be aiming for me? Was this a warning shot?_

Howell hushed the crowd. "I've already cleared Kinnison and Clark, so we don't have to worry about this being an internal investigation."

Caitrin wanted to breathe a little easier, but the towering figure at the end of the table didn't budge when his name was mentioned. _Either he is a cool customer or guilty as sin_. "So where does that leave us?" she asked her commander.

Howell sighed. "Unfortunately, it doesn't leave us with much. Every crewman aboard has some degree of programming ability, not to mention expertise for some. We have the pod itself and a list of names. Does anyone here have any forensics experience?"

Heads turned on shoulders, leaving Caitrin to raise her hand and become the focal point. "I went through a basics course several years ago," she offered.

Howell raised an eyebrow. "Really?" He picked up his tablet and scanned the screen's contents. "Alright, then. Collin, Barros, and Adkins will see to the examination of the cryo-pod, Collin, you'll lead that group."

It took Caitrin a second to comprehend herself as "Collin". She nodded and finally found Maya's gaze meeting hers. The roommate merely gave a quick smile and returned to her dour self. _Clearly her mind is on something else_.

"The rest of you will help organize interviews to determine the whereabouts of the other crewmen for the time leading up to the incident." Howell straightened up. "We will reconvene at 0500 hours. Hopefully by then we'll have our answers." He nodded and the security officers started to file out of the mess hall.

Caitrin quickly stood and shortened the distance between her and Maya, weaving her way through the departing guards. The older woman remained motionless and burrowed in an oversized coat. Whether for warmth or shelter, Caitrin didn't know. "You okay?"

Maya, her gazed locked on the floor made an abbreviated shrug. "I'm fine." She looked up, her eyes tired, and Caitrin saw distant pain behind batting lashes. "Let's just get this over with."

Before Caitrin could respond to her blatant apathy, Maya moved past her and waved Adkins over. The young, dark-skinned man gave a smug smile and beckoned Caitrin to join them with a nod. Adkins was no doubt enthralled with the opportunity to work with the only two women on _Emissary_.

"Let's just get this over with," she repeated Maya's comment to Adkins. His expression remained, but his posture stiffened, realizing any playful banter at this point could deter any hopes of his advances working on either woman. _In your dreams, Adkins_.

* * *

The Cryo-Chamber was now brightly lit around the only opened pod, making the scene look like a stage performance was about to take place. Caitrin could easily imagine the stoic crowd being the frozen faces encased in the cryo-pods behind her as the three "investigators" started their initial examination.

Adkins removed his cap and scratched his head. Surprisingly, when he spoke, it was the accent of an eastern European. "With all those techs swarming over this thing, it will be hard to tell if those who searched the pod afterwards didn't come earlier to sabotage it."

Caitrin nodded. "Yeah, but the Captain was wise enough to jot down the list of people who helped Walters." She bent down and opened up the tool kit Howell had supplied her with. "Let's first see who all has been here."

"You know if they didn't throw all of the funds to outfit this ship at the Political Suite, they could have afforded some security cameras in here," Maya muttered, tapping a finger against the pod's casing.

"I hear _that_," Adkins added.

Caitrin shook her head and pulled the fingerprint scanner from its fitted enclosure in the case. She thumbed it on and brought it up to the outer edge of the pod's control pad. She traced the outline and slowed her pace when she ran the scanner over the numeric buttons. The scanner beeped several tones and the results appeared on the small readout.

"Well?" Maya asked.

Caitrin skimmed the list of matched fingerprints, then held it out for all of them to see. "Any of those names jump out at you?"

Adkins and Maya both shook their heads.

Caitrin transmitted the list to Howell, hoping his interview process was going better than their examination. She sighed and sat down on the cold steps. "None of this makes any sense."

"You're telling me," Adkins said. "Why take out a random crewmember to only have the entire ship being combed for the culprit?"

Maya frowned. "Maybe they botched up the timing, just like they screwed up the feedback loop."

"So they're clever enough to infiltrate the cryo-computer, but sloppy enough to bungle the programming?" Caitrin asked shaking her head in confusion. Then an idea popped into her head. _What if it isn't an ONI spook doing this but some Insurrectionist loyal to Andvari?_ She worked her jaw for a second. "What if our destination has something to do with all this."

"What?" both Maya and Adkins blurted out at the same time.

"Well think about it." Caitrin stood and started to pace back and forth. "We have an Ambassador on this ship who's as cocky as he is fat." She paused, choosing her words carefully as to not divulge any information not common knowledge among those on the ship. "He talked about averting a crisis. Maybe someone on Andvari knows he's coming and wants to halt us before we get there?"

Maya gave Caitrin a wide-eyed look. "Taryn, how the _hell_ do you come up with all this?"

Adkins stepped down to the grated floor to both literally and symbolically take Caitrin's side. "Didn't you listen to the Captain's and Ambassador's announcements?" He folded his arms and gave Caitrin a wink. "I agree that this could be just a message saying not to try anything." He gave both women a satisfied smile.

Maya rolled her eyes. "So that's it? We just tell Howell our assumptions and hope for the best?"

Caitrin opened her hands expansively. "What else can we do? If the culprit used gloves then their fingerprints won't show up on the keypad."

"Fine," Maya retorted, holding up her hands to forestall any further argument. "Let's go tell Howell."

The three of them marched down to their commanding officer's small single quarters, adorned with a fully functional restroom and kitchen area. Howell was mulling over the list Caitrin had sent when they entered the tiny meeting area connected to his quarters. "This is all you have?"

Caitrin nodded. "There wasn't much there, Sir. We could dig down another layer, but that would cause the entire cryo-computer to be placed on standby."

"Understood." Howell set the tablet down and leaned back in his cushioned chair. "Thoughts?"

Adkins spoke first. "Whoever did this, was both sneaky and sloppy, Sir. The program worked, but not the way it was intended. It was undetected from the time of insertion, leaving no trace of origin." He smiled, pleased with taking the analysis as his own.

"Interesting." Howell scratched at the stubble on his chin. "Anything else?"

Caitrin stirred. "Sir, the possibility of this incident as a scare tactic was brought up during our earlier discussion. We _are_ a political envoy . . ." she trailed off, giving Howell the opportunity to speculate.

The commanding officer slowly sat up in his chair, the creaking sound nearly masking his sigh. "I was waiting for someone else to come to that conclusion." He looked past them and signaled the door to his quarters close by a remote in his hand. Howell's face turned to stone. "The Captain gave me some more information on the planet we're destined for. There are innies on the ground with which the Ambassador is going to negotiate."

"Insurrectionists?" Maya hissed through clenched teeth.

Caitrin looked down to see the Hispanic woman's fists balling up. Caitrin quickly reached over and gave Maya's arm a squeeze. The roommate forced her hands open and took a deep breath. Caitrin lifted her chin inquisitively. "Could one of them have gotten on board?"

Howell's brow furrowed. "I suppose anything is possible, at this point." He picked up his tablet. "I'll run over the list again, searching for those with past ties to any Insurrectionist movements or planets where fighting was active." He nodded. "In the meantime, continue your investigation. And good work."

"But Sir, we've already—"

Caitrin jabbed Adkins in the ribs with her elbow. The younger man cringed and rubbed at the point of contact. "Yes, Sir," she said for all three. They filed out of the anteroom in silence.

The three guards started for their previous location, but once out of earshot of their commander, Adkins threw his hands up in protest. "Why are we going back? Just let Howell run his search program and be done with it."

Maya, walking with arms folded, threw him a stern look. If anything, she looked more ticked off than before. "Shut up, Adkins. If the Innies are involved, then we need to solve this _right_ _now_."

The dark-skinned man stopped in his tracks, causing the two women to halt. "So we are just going to scan the entire ship for prints? Why don't we have everyone give a stool sample as well?" he bit out.

"That's it!" Caitrin exclaimed.

Adkins' expression soured. "Collin, if you want to play with people's crap, then be my guest."

Caitrin closed her eyes in frustration. "No, you idiot. Scanning for prints." She stepped ahead to look at them both. "If this guy is sloppy as we think, he may have put gloves on _after_ he was inside the Cryo-Chamber."

Maya shook her head. "But that could include anyone still in the pods."

"Well, let's be sure and find out."

* * *

She ran the scanner over the keypad that permitted the crew to enter the Cryo-Chamber, holding it steady longer than on the previous setting. Caitrin tapped her foot nervously as her two shadows awaited the results.

"Why is it taking so long?" asked Adkins.

Maya responded, "There's probably three times as many entries in the system. Without reviewing the log-in requirements, fingerprints will give us what we need."

"Hopefully," Adkins murmured.

The scanner beeped and the readout filled the tiny screen with countless names. "Great." Caitrin compared the list to the names Howell had supplied her as "cleared" and removed them. It eliminated a good portion of the crew, but then she sorted the names by granted clearance levels.

And one name rose to the top of the list: Neil Yunker, Aide to the Ambassador.

Maya read the display and cursed.

"What?" Adkins asked, not able to see the screen from his angle.

Caitrin quickly saved the file and transmitted it to Howell. Gathering up the rest of her gear, she gave both Maya and Adkins a worried look. "It's the Ambassador, he's in danger." Caitrin shouldered the equipment bag and ran down the corridor with the other two following closely behind. Her steps almost faltered when she recalled the security guard that last checked on the Ambassador: Kinnison.

Her heartbeat began to pound in her head_. I knew there was something wrong about that guard! _Fear trickled into her thoughts. Fear for the Ambassador's life, fear of failing to protect him, and fear that this whole mission could be scrubbed in the next few moments, possibly evaporating her chance to get to Andvari.

She threw the bag off her shoulder and pulled out her shockstick.

Caitrin ran as fast as she could.

* * *

Neil Yunker jolted awake. The bustle of security guards filling the room felt like a dream, and he doubted his consciousness. That was until he was throw to the ground, none too gently, and binders were placed on his wrists. A strong hand pressed his face to the carpeted floor and Neil felt a knee slam into the middle of his back. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded. With the left side of his face smashed to the carpet, his right eye looked up to see the captain of the ship with the head of security looking tall and menacing above.

"Neil Yunker, you are placed under arrest," said Howell. He pointed to the small utility room housing the Ambassador's cryo-pod. "Get Ambassador Thorin out of there, but double check the system." He turned to stared knifes back at Yunker. "His aide, here, might have already rigged it."

Caitrin moved past her commander, followed by a handful of technicians and medical personnel. She waited in the doorway as the Ambassador was thawed and his pod opened. The medical staff was quick to cover him with a plush robe and support his weight, as Herod struggled to overcome his disorientation. Caitrin ushered the Ambassador out into the living area of his quarters and snapped to attention. "Sir, his pod appears to be secure, though the techs are going over it again."

Herod, still groggy, let his eyes focus on the scene. When he saw his aide on the ground he gasped. "What's going on here? Captain, release him!" He shook off the medtechs still at his sides and retied his robe more securely. "What has he done to warrant such gross misconduct?"

Captain Abbott calmly approached Herod, and Caitrin could read strained patience in his stance. "Ambassador, your aide has not only managed to breach security, but also reprogrammed the cryo-computer systems to cause severe trauma to a crewman in cryo-freeze."

Herod sobered and lost some of his rage. "How bad is the crewman hurt? Is he alive?"

Puzzled at Herod's concern for one of the passengers, Abbott frowned. "Yes, he will be fine, but in the meantime, we're taking Yunker to the brig." Abbott nodded to the guards watching the Ambassador's aide and they hauled the protesting man to his feet.

Herod brought a hand up. "That won't be necessary, Captain," he said calmly.

All movement in the room stopped and Caitrin could almost taste the tension. The guards securing the prisoner looked at Herod and then at Abbott, waiting for some kind of confirmation of their orders.

"With all due respect, Ambassador, it _is_ necessary."

Giving a sly smile to the Captain, Herod casually shrugged and lowered his voice. "Perhaps you would rather have a private discussion about the chain of command on a political vessel?"

Abbott narrowed his eyes and worked his jaw for a moment; the two men locked in an icy stare. But it was Howell that broke the silence. "Collin, Kinnison, you two stay. Everyone else, out."

Hesitantly, the security guards left the room while the technicians hurried out, no doubt sensing a possible brawl between Herod and Abbott.

Caitrin shut the door, sealed it, and then uneasily joined Kinnison to monitor Yunker after the aide returned to the chair he was rudely pulled out of. Caitrin started calculating distances and attack angles that would inevitably come when the fists started flying_. And I have to count Kinnison as a wildcard_.

Herod brought his chin up defiantly. "If I need to recite the Charter for political envoys and their heads-of-state, then I feel we might be here much longer than either of us desire."

The Captain's hands clenched, his knuckles white. "If you think you can pull diplomatic immunity on my ship after what your aide did—"

"_Your_ ship?" Herod chortled. "No, Abbott, as chief political statesman, _I_, Herod Thorin will deem if Yunker's actions warrant incarceration." The Ambassador finally broke his stare and walked over to rest a heavy hand on his aide's shoulder. "Besides, I asked him to do it."

"What!" Howell and Abbott shouted simultaneously. Fury and anger brewed in both their eyes, and Caitrin wasn't sure if they would be able to contain their rage. She wondered if she should even stop them from beating the Ambassador senseless.

"Oh, I assure you, there was only to be a mild injury inflicted, but accidents do happen." Herod stared disapprovingly at Yunker, and from Caitrin's perspective it looked genuine.

Howell took a step forward, his hands resting on his holster. "Why? Why would you have him do this?"

The Ambassador passively walked past Howell and took a seat opposite Yunker on a couch. "A test, Officer. A test to see just how prepared your security is for when we reach our destination."

"A test?" Howell's lips curled as if he had just tasted sour wine. "Why in hell would you do that?"

Surprisingly, the Ambassador rose to his feet fast with the movement of someone much younger and lighter. "Because this is war," he hissed. "Because the minute we enter the Sigur System we'll be in hostile territory, and the last thing I want watching my back is an unproven crew." Herod folded his arms and breathed in deeply. His face softened and he exhaled. "Now I assure you, both of you, that there will be no more incidents." He returned to his seat and gathered his hands across his round middle.

Captain Abbott finally broke his angered, statue-like pose and stormed out of the Ambassador's quarters.

Howell pointed a quivering finger at Herod. "If you or your pathetic aide here try anything else, I'll deal with you personally." He snapped his fingers and the two security guards followed him out.

Caitrin took one last look into Herod's chambers and felt a shiver run down her spine when the Ambassador smiled and waved.

Out in the hallway Maya grabbed Caitrin's arm, pulling her off to the side. "What happened?" Maya asked.

All Caitrin could do was shake her head to dismiss further discussion. Of all her assumptions and supposed analysis, she had been wrong about the culprit. Caitrin's confidence in her abilities was now replaced by the once-forgotten feelings of inadequacy. Inadequacy she had not felt since before she met Morcant several years ago.

And all she wanted to do was cry in her husband's arms and let his words drip like honey in her ears. Words of comfort. Words of hope.

Maya tugged on her arm. "C'mon, Taryn. We both need some rest."

Caitrin nodded and let her roommate guide her to their quarters.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

When Caitrin woke the next morning she still felt tired, but emotionally she was doing better. Caitrin reminded herself of the reason for going to Andvari was the pursuit of the truth and the weight of those damning thoughts were silenced. Once again, checking her emotions and thinking through her predicament. She experienced a dreamless sleep, which she thanked God for, and Maya joined her for breakfast. They sat at the farthermost table away from the serving line, and were left alone by the others.

Maya prodded at the cereal in her bowl, looking as dour as she did before they started their investigation of the pod.

"You want to talk about something?" Caitrin slowly asked. She took a sip of her steaming mug of coffee and set it back down with a soft clank.

Setting her spoon down, Maya gave a long sigh. "You have any kids?"

"Me?" The question threw Caitrin off for a second and she reeled back.

"Yeah, you," Maya said, giving a disdainful stare. She moved her tray off to the side and planted her arms on the table. She pointed to Caitrin's chest and gave an accusing smile. "Don't tell me you didn't get those from childbirth."

"What?" Caitrin looked down and pulled her jacket closer, zipping it up all the way. The rudeness in Maya's tone struck Caitrin as all wrong. "Easy there, Barros. These don't mean I've had a kid." She took a distracting sip of her coffee. "And do you think you could dial it down just a little bit?"

Maya frowned, feigning ignorance. "Dial what down?"

Caitrin winced. "You just seem more on edge. More hostile."

Maya raised an eyebrow. "You've known me, what, a handful of days? Maybe this is what I'm like all the time and you're just now realizing it."

"I don't buy that."

She snorted. "Of course you don't, you keen observer, you." She brought a hand up and ran it through her loosely fallen black hair, sighing. "I'm sorry, Taryn. I just . . . I don't know."

Caitrin reached out and grabbed Maya's free hand, placing it in her own. "It's okay, just tell me what's going on."

Maya sat silent for a while. Eventually, she nodded. "Well, I've got a kid. Did I ever tell you that?"

"No," Caitrin replied, shaking her head.

"Yeah, I had her when I was 17." She closed her eyes. "It was a stupid mistake, me and my good-for-nothing boyfriend. When he found out I was pregnant, he left, leaving me and my parents to raise my daughter alone."

"What's her name?"

"Maria," Maya said, finally opening her eyes. "She was a beautiful child and helped pull my life together. Having her forced me to reevaluate my own selfish behavior and really got me back on track." She lowered her gaze and her hair cascaded down to shield her face. "But like imputed sin, she eventually fell in the same course I had plotted in my youth. Maria has had her ups and down, but I fear she's acting without thinking through the big issues."

Caitrin nodded. "It happens."

Maya shook her head. "Yeah, well she called me just before we left Earth's atmosphere to tell me she's quitting her entry-level job at Tterrab Industries and signing up for the UNSC."

Caitrin blinked. "That doesn't sound that bad, does it?"

"I guess on the surface, no. To the casual observer, no." Maya brought her head up, her eyes watery. "It's just that I've tried so hard to raise her to be something more, something better than I ever was." Her words poured out with difficulty. "The last thing I want for her is to go off and fight Insurrectionists like I did."

Pressing her lips together, Caitrin frowned. "A mother's instinct is to protect her child. There's nothing wrong in feeling these things."

Maya brought a clenched fist up then slowly opened it and set her palm on the table's surface. "I know." She studied the lines of wear on the table, tracing them with a thumbnail. "I can be a bit of a control freak, especially with my family. If something starts to fall apart, I try to swoop in and save the day."

"And not being there to talk some sense into Maria has you upset?"

"That's part of it." Maya rubbed her eyes with thumb and forefinger. "Taryn, I know what waits for her on the battlefield. I just don't think she realizes what she'll be signing up for."

Caitrin leaned forward. "Well, look. We'll be gone, what, another two months tops? When you get back, Maria will still be in Basic, right? The UNSC will still have to file all that paperwork and run tests before she's even accepted."

"Maybe." Maya shook her head. "Things move so fast these days."

"And they won't slow down just so you can grab hold and stop the world from spinning."

"Yeah." She suddenly sat up and looked Caitrin over. "And what's this? I'm getting a counseling session from someone half my age?"

Caitrin smiled. "'Let no one look down on your youthfulness.'"

Maya tilted her head. "What, now you're quoting me Bible verses?"

"Apparently it's what you need to hear."

Maya let out a short laugh. "I haven't been to Sunday School in forever." She cleared her eyes with her sleeve and sniffled. "Thanks. It's nice to talk with someone whose life hasn't completely fallen apart."

Caitrin's stomach turned to ice and she swallowed past a lump in her throat. "Yeah, well we all have our different paths." She raised her mug to try and hide the sorrow that was contorting her smile. _Don't break down, Caitrin. Hold it together_. She smoothed out her expression and let the wave of pain settle inside. "So, will you be okay, or will I have to be on guard for any more comments about the size of my chest?"

Maya barked a laugh and covered her mouth. "Sorry about that, it was rude of me." She pulled her now-soggy cereal back in front of her and dipped her spoon in to the soupy mess. Maya raised the spoon and emptied its contents back into the bowl. "Maybe I'm just jealous."

Caitrin raise an eyebrow. "Jealous?"

"Of course." Maya looked left then right. "You're hogging all the attention," she whispered.

"Oh, believe me, you can gladly have it," Caitrin assured her. She took a final gulp of coffee and stood. "Let's get out of here. My shift starts in half an hour."

* * *

A few days after Ambassador Thorin was placed back in his pod, things began to settle down. Howell restructured the duty roster and was able to relieve half of the security force to join the rest of the crew in the Cryo-Chamber. Luckily, Caitrin and Maya had taken the first leg of the journey rotating the same guard position, allowing them to spend much of their day conversing and exchanging stories. Several weeks had gone by, grinding those roaming the ship to complete boredom, and Howell decided to switch the cryo-pod rotation a few days early.

Thankfully, Howell had provided both women with a pair of auxiliary pods sectioned off of the main Chamber. But that didn't stop Maya from making quite a scene by using a simple bath towel as a covering, walking down the corridor and receiving whistles from the males. Caitrin had opted for wearing a tank top and shorts, wearing a long jacket that draped down past her knees.

Caitrin shot Maya a sideways stare. "You happy with all the attention you're getting now?"

Maya, her darker skin complimenting the cream-colored towel, nodded. "Of course," she replied in a singsong inflection.

Caitrin rolled her eyes. "I'm surprised Howell hasn't said anything to you."

"Oh, I'm sure he's keeping his thoughts to himself."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah." She bounced a hand off of Caitrin's arm and laughed. "Let's just see how much privacy our luxurious suite has been given."

They finally came to the Cryo-Chamber and walked all the way down to the end, passing a few crewmen that only wore shorts and uncomfortable expressions. To their left they found a bulky door with a wheel release.

"Lovely," Caitrin muttered. She opened the heavy door with a creaking sound that sent a shiver through her bones. The inside of the small room contained a locker with a padlock and two cryo-pods that looked to be older models of the ones lining the corridor they had just left. She leaned over the central control panel and whistled. "Hey, at least these things are on a timer."

"Meaning what?" Maya asked, examining the locker.

"Meaning we don't have to have some poor, unfortunate soul seal us in these things."

"Oh," Maya said with disappointment. She pulled her towel off and loosely folded it, placing it in the locker's top shelf. Feeling the chill of the air, she quickly hopped into one of the opened pods. "I forgot how cold these things really are." She shivered once more, rubbing the bare flesh of her arms to preserve some lasting heat.

Caitrin peeled off her jacket and hung it up on a rung in the lower half of the locker. "Uh, I'd hate to break it to you, Barros, but we _are_ in a Cryo-Chamber."

"Just hurry up and get in," Maya hissed through chattering teeth.

Pulling off the shorts and tank top, the cold instantly gave Caitrin goosebumps. She threw her clothes in the locker and sealed the padlock. "Don't look," she ordered Maya, as she stepped across the short distance to the control panel.

Even through the hiss of valves releasing compressed air, Caitrin could hear Maya sigh. "How old are we?" she asked with eyes closed.

Caitrin keyed for a 30-second delay and climbed into her pod. "Do you really want me to remind you?"

"No thanks," Maya laughed.

There was a brief silence between them and Caitrin took those few seconds to prepare herself for the freezing. "Hey, Maya?"

"Yeah?"

Caitrin unfolded her arms, placing them at her sides. "Thanks for the friendship."

As the counter gave them a five-second warning, Maya chuckled. "Thank you, Taryn. And sweet dreams."

"You, too." As the pods closed, Caitrin closed her eyes. "Sweet dreams," she repeated.

* * *

"Up and at 'em, Taryn."

A sliver of light shined like a distant horizon in Caitrin's eyes, and then it exploded into a full-fledged supernova, forcing her to blink away the pain of seeing such a flash. A hand began poking her side, causing little pricks of pain in between her ribs. "Hey, stop it."

"Well you can't sleep all day, can you?" Maya retorted, shaking the mattress.

Caitrin pulled the covers up over her head. "We're in Slipspace, technically there is no day or night."

"What was that? I could barely hear you under the covers."

Caitrin threw off the heavy sheets and sat up in mock anger. "I'm trying to sleep!"

"And I'm trying to wake you up."

Rubbing her eyes with the palms of her hands, she moaned at the discomfort. "I've never been in a cryo-pod that long."

"I don't think any of us have." Maya sat down in the chair and looked up at Caitrin. "And for your information, you're wrong. There technically is day and night on a space-faring vessel."

Caitrin swung her legs off the edge of the bed. "Okay, I don't feel like arguing the mandated internal clock of _Emissary_."

"Then you better check the time."

Caitrin looked at her watch and it read: 5:13 AM. She cleared her throat and displayed the time to the fully dressed roommate.

Maya squinted and mockingly gasped. "Then maybe my watch is off." She pulled her timepiece to her face and then compared the two watches. "Nope, mine is correct. It's past noon, Local Time." She returned to her chair, leaving Caitrin to stare at her wrist a little while longer.

"Local Time for an outpost?"

Maya leaned back and brought her hands behind her head. "No, sleepyhead," she said playfully, "we're no longer in Slipspace."

"What?" Caitrin blurted out. "We're here?"

"Yep, just arrived in the Sigur System. Captain Abbott instituted the new time change a few minutes ago. After we had gotten the all clear from the UNSC patrol craft, the Captain made a short jump." Maya made a popping sound with her mouth. "And you slept through the whole thing."

"I thought we weren't due for another few days?" Caitrin asked, running a hand through her hair.

Maya glared. "When is the last time you heard of a Skyline Transport yacht with an accurate translight engine?"

"Good point." Caitrin eased herself down to the floor and took a moment to balance against the bed frame. "What's the skinny?"

"We've still got a few days till we reach the planet, so that should give you just enough time to get ready, right?"

Caitrin grabbed the pillow off Maya's bed and threw it, bouncing it off her roommate's face.

Maya laughed.

Both women had been thawed, with the rest of the crew, several days prior. Caitrin found only mild skin irritation, but Maya kept complaining her delicate skin was still raw. Everyone seemed eager to be busy with something, and Caitrin hoped all would be happy with the news of their arrival.

The Hispanic woman turned to the terminal and called up the ship's route. "Hey, we'll be flying by one of the gas giants on our approach, so we should have a neat little view, if we're lucky enough to get stationed on the bridge."

"Or just go find a viewport." Caitrin stretched tired muscles and stifled a yawn.

"You always this cranky in the morning?" Maya asked, still occupied with the terminal.

"Maybe. I just need a good 12 hours of sleep a night." She cracked her knuckles and smiled. "And a cup of coffee wouldn't hurt."

Maya snorted. "I swear, you must live off that stuff." She pointed a finger at the terminal screen. "It looks like Howell finally got some sense and put us both on the same security unit."

Caitrin leaned over Maya's shoulder and read the screen's contents. "Ha!" She slapped Maya on the back. "Looks like we get the bridge view after all."

Maya planted her elbow on the desk and propped her chin in her palm. "Yippee," she said flatly.

"Why so glum?" Caitrin asked, studying her roommates posture with keen interest.

"Oh, the Ambassador. I don't think I can bring myself to stomach his presence much longer." Maya made her hand into a fist and supported the weight of her head on her cheek. "Did you read the rest of the roster? Thorin specifically asked for us to be a part of his little boarding party."

Anxiousness flooded into Caitrin's mind. Of all the relationship building she had been doing with Maya, her focus on her present circumstances took a backseat. _I need to get my mind right_. Caitrin pursed her lips together and slowly nodded. _This might be the opportunity I need. If I can find some way to leave the group, I could get lost in the city . . ._ "Well, maybe it won't be that bad," she said with a small quiver in her voice.

Maya rotated in her chair and looked up into Caitrin's face. "As long as you don't abandon me."

Caitrin's gut turned frigid as her friend stared into her eyes. Their tiny quarters suddenly felt even smaller, and Caitrin forced a smile. "I won't."

* * *

Caitrin Lann kept her eyes forward, staring at the immense beauty of the gas giant known as M43879. The swirling patterns of orange and brown created a fluid-moving tapestry, capable of lulling any spectator to sleep. _Emissary_ was on final approach, just passing out of reach of M43879's gravity well. One of the gas giant's moons began coming into view and a beep from the communications officer's console caused Caitrin's eyes to dart downward.

"Sir, we're being hailed."

Captain Abbott straightened up in his command chair and frowned. "Get a lock on the source."

The officer tapped away at his terminal and a green grid pattern glowed into existence on the main viewport, overlaying the outside view with tactical information. The space to and from tiny points in the distance ticked down, and a single red blip appeared on the horizon of the nearest orbiting moon. "There, Sir. Signal strength is weak. It's probably a listening post, but I can't be sure."

Abbott nodded and turned the chair around with a kick of his toe. "Ambassador, would you like to have the honor? "

Beside Caitrin, Herod Thorin stirred. "You may identify us, Captain, but there should be no cause for concern."

Abbott's eyes narrowed. "_Should_ we have cause for concern?"

Herod put his hand up and waved it. "None whatsoever. Our passcodes will be fine."

The Captain glared at the heavyset man a moment longer. He turned back around to face forward and nodded to the communications officer. "Hewitt, you may proceed."

The young Officer Hewitt swallowed before speaking. "This is the political envoy _Emissary_. We are bound for Andvari." His mouth hung open, awaiting a response. The silence over the comm lingered and he gave the Captain a worried look. "I repeat, this is the political—"

Static erupted over the bridge's sound system then compressed to a more tolerable volume. There was a pop-click and a gruff voice spoke. "I heard you the first time."

Abbott and Hewitt exchanged looks of confusion. The Captain triggered his comm unit. "This is Captain Abbott of _Emissary_, with whom am I speaking?"

"Doesn't matter who I am. What matters is the contents of your cargo."

Abbott leaned forward. "What? This is a political vessel; we're inbound for Andvari."

"Sir! Two contacts coming up from the moon," Hewitt belted out. "Sensors show two _Longsword_-class fighters coming in hot." He gulped and faced the Captain again. "The source of the communication is a medium bulk freighter, Sir." Hewitt seemed to deflate in stature. "He was stationed on the edge of the dark side of the moon. Masking himself in the lower atmosphere."

Caitrin watched as the three contacts came speeding towards them on an intercept course. She squinted as Hewitt zoomed in on the incoming fighters. _Those Longswords could make short work of a yacht, but from the looks of the shape they're in, they have to be—_

"Pirates."

Caitrin looked over to the Ambassador, both surprised at the other's similar conclusion.

The Captain grunted in disgust. "Hewitt, contact the local Andvari space control, it should be on the usual emergency frequency. Tell them we need help, fast." Abbott switched his comm unit to broadcast over the ship's internal sound system. "All hands, prepare for evasive maneuvers. Strap yourselves in." Caitrin could barely hear the nervousness in his voice, but it was there. Abbott pointed to Herod. "Find a seat and strap in. This is going to be a bumpy ride."

As the Ambassador, his aide, and the security detail found harnessed seats along the back wall of the bridge, Maya leaned over to Caitrin. "You think this is another test?" Maya whispered, as they headed for the last two seats on the right.

Caitrin shrugged. She strapped in and saw the stars begin to spin outside the main viewport, as _Emissary_ began its evasive maneuvers. The gravity generators strained under the twists and turns and Maya nearly lost her balance. Caitrin braced herself against the wall to her left and grabbed Maya's arm, stabilizing her roommate long enough for her to strap in. "If this is a test, it's a twisted way to get us all killed."

_Emissary_ buckled as a fiery projectile sizzled through the space the yacht had just vacated.

Caitrin closed her eyes. _Please let this just be a test._


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_Emissary_ blasted away from the moon on a perpendicular course, leaving the freighter to settle in the yacht's wake. The two fighters vectored in from starboard, firing another barrage of missiles. The yacht shuddered as a nearby blast rocked the ship.

The incessant call for help over the comm was all Hewitt could do as he clutched to the arms of his chair. "Captain, still no response from Andvari."

Captain Abbott swore under his breath. "We're probably too far out for them to hear us. Keep trying." He pounded a fist off the arm of his command chair. "Helm, bring us around and plot us a course around the moon. We'll use the moon's gravity to slingshot us towards Andvari."

The helmsman gave the Captain a worried look. "Sir, those fighters are too fast. They'll be on top of us before we ever get close."

"Understood." Abbott brought his head up. "Keep with random evasive maneuvers." Abbott braced himself as the ship made a tight turn, swapping end for end in the span of 200 meters. He snapped his fingers and keyed his personal comm. "Docking Control, is the shuttle prepped and ready?"

A small, crackling voice responded. "Uh, yes, Sir. As soon as we exited the slipstream we did one last maintenance check, though the docking collar is getting quite a workout from evading our pursuit."

Caitrin couldn't hear anymore of the quick conversation, but she could tell Captain Abbott had a plan. Maya reached over and clutched Caitrin's hand in a tight grip as _Emissary_ corkscrewed to port.

The Captain clapped his hands together. "Thanks for the assist, Engineering. Docking Control, be ready to launch remotely on my mark." Abbott turned around and gave Herod a conspiratorial smile. "I'm sorry Ambassador Thorin, but we might have to use you for bait."

Shock bloomed on Herod's face. "Excuse me?"

_Aha! So we do have a wily captain after all_. The Captain's smile was infectious and Caitrin found herself wearing it was well. "Don't worry, Ambassador," Caitrin said, leaning over to her right. "You won't be in harm's way."

A graze off the outer hull caused _Emissary_ to vibrate and Herod's shock intensified. "Then what do you call this?" he asked, spreading his hands wide.

Abbott shook his head. "Give me communications with that freighter."

Hewitt pressed a key on his console and nodded. "Ready."

Abbott smoothed out his expression and took on the persona of a bitter old man. "This is Captain Abbott. Our only cargo is a government official, seeing as we _are_ a political delegation. I'm sure a ransom could win you the riches you desire. If you want him, you can have him." He switched the comm back over to Docking Control and started making his way to an unoccupied station. "Transfer shuttle control to the auxiliary helm console."

The Captain strapped in and acquainted himself to the newly lit terminal. He pulled a panel up that housed a joystick and throttle control to rest in his lap. The panel activated with a beep and Abbott shrugged.

Maya's gasp was barely audible. "Is he doing what I think he's doing?"

"A nautical version of the old 'bait and switch' routine," Caitrin whispered. "I just hope it works."

"Docking Control, _Mark_." The terminal screen flickered and the diagnostic readings of the shuttle were replaced with a cockpit view. Abbott gripped the joystick and throttle and took control of the small shuttle on loan from the UNSC. The boxy shuttle was designed to only carry a handful of people in atmosphere, and in the vacuum of space, it was no longer cumbersome to fly.

From Caitrin's perspective, Abbott looked more like a child engaged in a simulator than an actual professional Skyline Transport captain flying a craft by remote.

"Look!" Maya pointed toward the main viewport and the shuttle rocketed away from the underside of _Emissary_. The single engine drive glowed a familiar orange and was quickly lost in the backdrop of M43879. The shuttle made a sharp turn to port and one of the Longswords broke off to pursue followed closely by the other. "They're taking the bait."

Caitrin frowned. "Maybe they are that dumb." She almost swallowed her words when the tactical map overlaying the viewport identified the medium freighter as rotating and pulling along side the faster moving yacht. _Emissary_ presented its left flank to the freighter for a half second before cruising past, but it didn't stop the bandits' ship from unleashing a salvo from its auto-cannons. Caitrin winced as the rounds peppered _Emissary_'s portside, hammering the outer ablative layers. She felt her ears pop as somewhere in the ship the hull had been breached. The bridge blast doors slammed shut and a few consoles sparked.

Abbott, still occupied with controlling the shuttle, never took his eyes off the auxiliary helm's terminal screen. "Damage report."

"Captain, we've lost 32% maneuverability but our engines are still holding at nominal power," an officer informed.

"Just get us around that moon, Helm."

The sensors officer raised a hand. "Sir, I have a dozen more contacts inbound! ETA two minutes."

The damage _Emissary_ took gave the ship serious yaw problems when executing turns to the right. But the helmsman proved his skill as a pilot, rotating the ship on its side before performing another swift turn. While maintaining a heading for the bright side of the orbiting moon, _Emissary_ never traveled along the same vector for more than a few seconds.

Though the chaos on the bridge was a testament to how unstable parts of the known galaxy could be, Caitrin felt a wave of peace wash over her. Being strapped in a harness, becoming a spectator; these were things she couldn't control, much less change. Knowing her life was truly in the hands of others would normally cripple her with anxiety, but something inside told her they would make it.

_Emissary_ shook from another blast that sounded like a giant dagger was filleting the upper portion of the ship. Warning klaxons blared overhead as fire erupted from a nearby console, briefly silhouetting its frantic operator. Caitrin flinched at the heat and tried to shield her eyes from the brightness. An automated fire suppressor activated and doused the section of the bridge with a light, creamy foam.

"Sir, that last impact from the freighter is causing a critical failure in the starboard engine! We'll have to shut it down!" screamed an officer reading the diagnostic report off of his screen.

"Do it!" yelled Abbott.

The officer swallowed. "We can't take another hit like that."

"Hold on," Abbott said through clenched teeth as he spared a look out the main viewport. "Helm! Take us down into the atmosphere, see if we can loose them in the moon's terrain."

Caitrin nodded to herself. _By using the moon's gravity we can squeeze a little more speed from_ Emissary'_s_ _drives_. She focused again on Captain Abbott's terminal, watching him take the shuttle through another dive. Then she saw his screen fill up with the sharp outline of the medium freighter. "He's going to crash the shuttle into that freighter," she breathed to no one in particular.

Maya snorted. "There's no way. They'll take it out before he gets in range."

To Maya's right, Herod Thorin muttered under his breath. "As long as it buys us some time . . ."

Abbott took the shuttle through another series of turns to end up in the engine wake of the freighter. The enemy ship loomed ever closer and the image on the screen began to shake violently. Then with a final burst of speed and at point-blank range, the shuttle was hit by a projectile from one of the pursuing Longswords. The explosion engulfed the small shuttle and the entire back end of the freighter, ripping ardent fire through its blocky engines and ventral steering vanes. The largest of the pirate vessels began to break up along its spine as internal bulkheads collapsed when a missile magazine exploded. While the destruction of the medium freighter was cause for celebration, the two enemy fighters reoriented themselves to avenge the loss of their command ship.

Captain Abbott climbed out of the station to return to his command chair. "Stay sharp, everyone. We've still got two on our tail."

Corkscrewing through the cloudless atmosphere, the moon's surface looked more like a prehistoric desert, all dunes and rocky formations. The surface took on more shape as _Emissary_ vibrated from the change in pressure. Burned away chunks of plating were jarred loose and became small meteors themselves as the hull creaked and strained. Another series of alarms sounded, alerting the helmsman to pull up or risk crashing into the moon's surface.

"Hold on!" shouted the helmsman. He brought the ship's nose up as slow as possible, using every meter he could to spare the crew from blacking out.

Caitrin felt lightheaded as the G-forces pressed her back in her seat. She clutched the arms of the chair in a death-grip. Caitrin felt like she was in a thrill ride from an amusement park and she almost laughed at the comparison.

_Emissary_ finally leveled out and cleared the rocks below with several dozen meters to spare. Using the irregular pattern of the terrain, the helmsman skillfully rode the small rifts and valleys like a boat on the waves, giving the pursuing Longswords a difficult target.

Everyone remained tense, hoping to escape without further damage.

Then to the crew's amazement, the comm crackled to life. "Unidentified yacht, this is Andvari Space Patrol Unit Alpha. Please come to a heading of two-four-nine, we'll clear those bandits off your six."

Captain Abbott smiled and leaned forward in his chair. "This is the political vessel _Emissary_. We copy, and thanks." He pointed to the helmsman. "You heard the man."

The pilot of the ship nodded and rolled _Emissary_ over to starboard. The yacht creaked in protest at the maneuver, but it managed to line up on the given vector. In the near distance, a full squadron of fighters appeared on the horizon and accelerated towards the enemy ships.

The sensors officer barked a laugh. "The two Longswords are breaking off, Captain."

Abbott let out a sigh. "You can straighten us out, Helm."

As the friendly squadron grew in size, six zoomed past, trailing the two Longswords, while the other half formed up around _Emissary_. The small fighters looked very similar to the Longsword Interceptors, but with a single round engine centralized along the fuselage. They also held a nasty-looking rotary cannon slung under the nose, and the wings were akin to the extremely thin profile common among UNSC fighter design.

Maya nudged Caitrin's arm. "I've never seen that style of ship before," she whispered.

As if reading their minds, Abbott keyed his comm unit. "Alpha Leader, what is that class of fighter you're flying?" he asked curiously.

"Backswords, _Emissary_. A home-grown design." Alpha Leader's sigh came through the comm as a burst of static. "I apologize for not getting here sooner. Raiders have been polluting this system for a while now, and we're just now getting a foothold."

"I understand," Abbott replied while glancing over the damage report. "We'll be able to limp to Andvari, but we definitely need to perform some major repairs."

"Copy that, _Emissary_." Alpha Leader's tone brightened and Caitrin could tell he was smiling. "You'll see our shipyard is well up to the task."

* * *

The course Alpha Leader plotted took _Emissary_ in a lazy orbit around Andvari, giving the Captain and the crew a stunning view of the planet below. Rich, green forests segmented with large sections of fielded areas covered most of the main continent, while white-capped mountains escaped to the polar regions. The vast oceans were a colorful blend of blue and green that lightened the closer they came to land. The southern hemisphere was mostly ocean with a single small landmass made up of rusty desert and rock. The planet was small—going by UNSC standards— and was roughly two-thirds the size of Earth.

Surrounding Andvari were various orbiting platforms, the largest being the shipyard. An enormous contraption, the skeletal-framed station currently housed five ships undergoing repair or construction, leaving one slot open. Giant robotic arms moved up and down the length of one ship, sending sparks that illuminated portions of the hull in a dazzling display of light.

Caitrin marveled at the incredible display of engineering. "You see this, Maya?"

Maya silently nodded, but the Ambassador leaned forward and looked down at Caitrin. "It is impressive indeed."

Giving a tight-lipped smile, Caitrin turned to face the viewport. She was satisfied when Thorin grunted and slumped back in his seat. Since the damage _Emissary_ had sustained during the battle opened up portions of the ship to atmosphere, Captain Abbott ordered all crewmen to remain in restraints until the ship had landed.

Alpha Leader led them down through the hazy atmosphere and Caitrin momentarily lost sight of the Backsword when the clouds began to thicken; all she could see were puffy, bluish-gray clouds. Due to the current pressure systems conflicting with each other in the sky, _Emissary_ was jostled about, toss by fast moving air currents. Caitrin held on through the maddening vibration, and when the sky finally released them, a portion of the main continent filled the forward viewport.

They had a bird's-eye view of a sparse cityscape surrounded by forests. Due west of the city was a seaboard dock that connected with the largest body of water. The exterior of the buildings were colored in earth tones, having their angular shape the only sign they were not organic. Rusty red and brown were the dominant colors, while smaller living quarters wore the same green as the vegetation to the north and east. Faint outlines of a roadway system vanished and reappeared under the canopy of forest and buildings, truly making Andvari an inviting place to live.

"That must be the capital, Milanó," the Ambassador commented.

They had leveled now, cruising a thousand meters above sea level, and were watching the visual feed from an exterior camera mounted on _Emissary_'s keel. Caitrin nodded at Herod's remark and strained her eyes to get a better look at a certain building top. The camera operator saw the anomaly as well and zoomed in. A rounded, bubbled shield with two protruding barrels rotated towards _Emissary_, raising slightly on hydraulic motors.

"Sensors?" the Captain asked quickly.

"No signs of the turret powering up, Sir." The officer shrugged uncomfortably. "Must be an automated anti-air defense system."

Abbott frowned. "Keep monitoring for any signs of hostility. I want full spectrum scanning in case we have to break and run."

The Ambassador leaned forward and cleared his throat. "With all due respect, Captain, we are in no danger here. "It is in both parties best interest that we land safely."

Abbott narrowed his eyes. "And how can you verify that?" He turned away, not expecting an answer.

The comm hissed for a second, then Alpha Leader came through the static. "_Emissary_, you are clear to land in the Municipal District. Transmitting the coordinates now."

A beep sounded from the communications console and Hewitt nodded. A waypoint appeared on the tactical screen.

"Thank you for the escort, Alpha Leader," Captain Abbott said.

"Enjoy your stay. I doubt you'll want to leave." Alpha Leader's voice was uncomfortably monotonic in nature, as if it was a pre-programmed message from an AI.

Caitrin's stomach started to grow cold. _I have to remember what Morcant told me. If the Andvarians are truly on the right side of whatever is going on here, then I just have to trust they know what they're doing._

The portion of the Municipal District they were able to see contained nothing more that a few dome-shaped buildings and a central guard tower that doubled as traffic control. The landing zone looked like nothing more than an old courtyard that had been paved and numbered years ago. The faint markings of a number "2" were barely visible as _Emissary_ touched down with a stuttered thump. The engines slowly whined down as those sitting along the back of the bridge began to unfasten their restraints.

Captain Abbott stood and turned to the Ambassador. He was about to open his mouth to speak, but Thorin got the first words out.

"Shall we meet our humble guests?"

Abbott worked his jaw in subdued, controlled anger. "Of course, Ambassador."

Caitrin considered the Captain's irritation and found it justified. _From the beginning of this whole ordeal, Abbott has been walking on eggshells. Throw in that last engagement and you have grounds to request a position transfer_. Caitrin shook her head._ This is a political envoy, after all._

The Ambassador's group stood before the slowly descending ramp and Caitrin felt somewhat vulnerable. One word spoken out of context could send them packing before she even got the chance to make her escape. She looked down distractedly to see her shockstick displaying a full charge.

She must not have hid her fidgetiness very well because Yunker, standing behind her, leaned forward. "There's no need to be nervous here, Miss Collin," he purred. "The Andvari Administrator is one of integrity."

To Caitrin's left, Maya stirred. "Maybe it's _you_ we should be watching," she muttered under her breath.

Yunker inhaled, a reply on his lips, but the ramp finally locked into place was a staccato of clicks and brought everyone's attention forward. The dull afternoon light gave the courtyard a warm glow, as the sunlight cooked the wet pavement, sending misty clouds of humidity in the air only to evaporate before they reached knee height. Few bits of grass and weed glistened with moisture in the random patterns of cracks that carved into the landing zone. The air was pleasantly cool and a welcomed change from the stale, recycled air aboard _Emissary_.

Caitrin and Maya led the Ambassador and his aide, followed by Captain Abbott and Howell, with two more Skyline Transport Security Detail guards bringing up the rear. They marched forward then turned right, and Caitrin couldn't help but sneak a sideways glance over the exterior of _Emissary_. The once pristine hull was now covered in charred, armored plates, some mangled so severely Caitrin could imagine a giant beast had grabbed hold of the yacht and took a bite out if it. Some of the sleek lines that gave the ship its fish-like shape were twisted and blackened from the beating the pirates had given. But even with all the imperfections that now covered _Emissary_, the yacht had still held together and got them safely here.

_If I ever make it back home, I'll have to write_ Emissary'_s_ _manufacturer and give a testimonial of its amazing durability._

She brought her attention back forward and noticed a small group heading her way. Two armed men in matching uniforms of dark gray material flanked a central figure. Both wore headsets equipped with a built in comm unit and a small optical display that hovered over the left eye. They looked decidedly professional and decidedly lethal.

The dignitary in the middle was a tall, lean woman that had not quite reached middle age and carried herself with a grace that spoke of unmatched confidence. She wore a light-green gown that was simple, yet functional. Her long brown hair was gathered in a tight braid that gently pulled back the skin on her high forehead. With naturally rosy cheeks and high cheekbones, the little makeup she wore only accented her beauty. The smile she gave brought warmth to the rest of her face as the woman came to a stop five meters from Caitrin's group.

Maya and Caitrin shortened the distance by two more meters before the Ambassador stepped up between the two women. His rounded middle appeared in Caitrin's periphery before his smiling face, distracting her for a brief second.

The tall woman nodded slowly, keeping her eyes fixed on Herod's. "My name is Naomi Mahlon. I am the Administrator for Andvari." She opened her hands and spread them wide. "Welcome to Milanó. You will find your stay here most pleasing."

Herod quietly cleared his throat before speaking. "I am Ambassador Herod Thorin, commissioned by the Colonial Administration Authority under the sanction of the Unified Earth Government." He gave a curt bow. "Thank you for your hospitality." He turned sideways to encompass the rest of the gathered party. "This is the Captain of _Emissary_, Richard Abbott, and this is the Chief Security Officer, James Howell."

Both men nodded slowly, politely.

The Administrator smiled once more and she glanced at both Caitrin and Maya, as if noticing them for the first time. Her arms lowered and she collected her hands together. "While I'm sure your security is competent, you'll find its apparent need unnecessary. Milanó is one of the safest cities in the galaxy."

From behind the Ambassador, Howell stepped sideways. "With all do respect, Administrator Mahlon, we prefer to stay with our previously made arrangements."

"Very well." Naomi Mahlon smiled and commented something inaudible to the armed escort on her right. The uniformed man nodded and turned his head to speak into his comm unit. The Administrator lifted her chin and gazed over Maya's head. "As soon as your crew gets settled in, we can see about the repairs to your ship." She clapped her hands together and a string of liveried men streamed out of a doorway that was hidden in the surrounding courtyard wall. They formed two columns, designating a path that led to the double doors they had just exited. They simultaneously snapped to attention and the Administrator motioned for Caitrin and Maya to follow her.

Caitrin swallowed and looked back to catch Howell's eye. The chief security officer pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes. Howell exchanged glances with Abbott, and Caitrin could read uncertainty on both their faces. Reluctantly, and almost casually, the grouped followed the flowing green gown inside the complex.

Caitrin struggled to keep her mind from racing. _I have so much I need to figure out_. She had to balance the duties and responsibilities of her guard position and still find a way to loose herself in the city without attracting too much attention. The weight of her whole predicament pressed down on her like the humidity had done back at Morcant's memorial stone in Texas. She was a long way from there, yet so close to the heartache.

Numbly, she followed the Administrator.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Caitrin let out an exhausting breath and collapsed on the soft, comfortable cushions of the couch. She turned on her side, giving her an angle to view Maya coming through the doorway. Caitrin grabbed the two pillows at both ends of the couch and stuck one between her legs and the other under her head. "Goodnight," she whimpered and closed her eyes.

Maya snorted and shut the door behind her. "If you want the couch, I'll gladly find something more suitable to my tastes. Look at this place," she said, stretching her arms wide.

Caitrin moaned but sat up to get her first real look at their newly assigned room in the Capital Palace. "Whoa."

Both women stood and gawked at the luxuriously furnished quarters that was to be their home during the delegation's stay on Andvari. With a high ceiling supported by large, dark wooden beams, the scope of the place could leave the occupant wondering if they had stumbled upon the Master Chamber. Dark paneling ran along the edges of the room to help frame the fully functional bathroom, kitchenette, dual walk-in closets, and the double doors that led out to an enclosed balcony. Long, violet curtains hung from overhead beams and their swaying motion, via the environmental comfort system, gave the impression the room was alive and flowing.

Two bedrooms branched off the main living area and Caitrin found herself floating towards the rightmost room. A dimly lit nightstand flanking the bed big enough for two beckoned her examination. A tiny holoprojector built into the table's wooden surface displayed the current time, date, and outside temperature. Caitrin then panned her new sleeping quarters with the same amazement as before. A canopy bed, like one she had been dreaming of ever since she was a child, took up the largest portion of the room, and a vanity mirror and a small armoire stationed at the corners of the bedroom kept the room feeling very homey. Caitrin smiled and skipped to the adjacent bedroom Maya had walked into.

She paused in the doorway to find Maya's room a mirror image of her own. "Well, what do you think?" Caitrin asked amusingly.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Maya shook her head. "Something isn't right here." She looked up with a furrowed brow. "It's too clean."

Caitrin raised an eyebrow. "Too clean?" She frowned and thought for a moment. "Do you mean 'too clean for a bunch of Insurrectionists?'"

Maya frowned as well. "Maybe. I don't know. Things aren't making much sense now." She pulled herself farther to the center of the bed and stretched out sideways. "It's just that—" she sighed and brought a hand up to cover her forehead. "Howell told us the Ambassador was coming to negotiate with the Innies, but from first impressions, these people are just like another other colony group." She let out another frustrated sigh. "And this image of Andvari being a utopia feels . . ."

"Artificial?" Caitrin offered.

"Yeah."

"I know what you mean. It's been a very odd day."

Maya snorted. "You're telling me."

From the moment the initial delegation team had entered the complex, Administrator Mahlon insisted the crew from _Emissary_ take the next few days to recuperate and relax while the ship underwent repairs. Ambassador Thorin was very acceptant of this schedule but Captain Abbott insisted on remaining with _Emissary_ while the ship was in the repair yard. Mahlon accommodated for Abbott and the Captain took a skeleton crew to the orbiting facility later in the day. Howell had commissioned a quarter of his staff to go with _Emissary_, while the rest stayed in the Palace with the Ambassador.

Administrator Mahlon had offered the crew of _Emissary_ free roam of the entire city and encouraged them to spend their time in the fine establishments Milanó had to offer. Howell was very leery of letting any personnel venture outside the Palace walls, but few complained when each was given their assigned rooms in the Guest Wing. Mahlon turned out to be a wonderful hostess. She would constantly ask the Ambassador and his entourage if they need anything while she gave them the grand tour.

The Palace was a monument to the old-fashioned architecture Caitrin had once read about in history books. With the circumference being hexagonal in shape, the outer wall rose nearly forty meters tall and had circular guard posts resting on the top at intervals of fifty meters. Made of mortar and large stones, the ten-meter thick wall personified Milanó as a place of protection and integrity. The largest feature of the Palace was the enormous pair of triangular pillars the stood back to back, one eclipsing the other by two dozen meters. Caitrin imagined from orbit they looked like two giant slabs of limestone that had been chiseled out of the rock and stood upright, but the width was actually a good hundred meters across. The depth and height appeared almost incalculable, since there was nothing in the vicinity in which to compare, but the taller of the two was at least twenty times the height of the outer wall. Since given the grand tour, Caitrin knew they housed the governmental infrastructure that ran Andvari.

It was evening now, and all Caitrin wanted to do was sleep. The Ambassador had settled in to his no-doubt extravagant room and two other guards, one of them Adkins, took the third shift with only mild griping.

The reason the day felt odd to her was from the Andvarians themselves. Even with the message left by Morcant, that these people were on the right side of the "argument", the locals they interacted with were the antithesis of Insurrectionists. From the looks of things, Andvari was the ideal community. That didn't stop Maya from questioning everything the Andvarians did, but Caitrin found the Hispanic woman's facial expression perpetually perplexed.

Caitrin joined Maya on the bed, falling backwards on the other side, their heads mere inches apart. "All this pomp and circumstance _could_ be fake, but to what end?"

Maya shrugged as she stared up at the curtain draped over the canopy bed. "I don't know, but I don't like it." Maya propped herself up on an elbow and faced Caitrin. "Well, there's one way to find out."

Caitrin frowned. "How?"

Reaching over her head, Maya grabbed the chatter listings of local establishments off the nightstand. "Here," she said, as she dropped the tablet between the both of them. "Let's do what Mahlon encouraged." She started thumbing through the directory. "Nothing like a little intel-gathering mission mixed with a little R&R." Her finger paused over the dining section. "What are you in the mood for?"

Caitrin sat up and held her frown. Maya's suggestion of mingling with the locals did fit into Caitrin's own plans, but something deep inside planted a seed of hesitation that was slowly growing in her empty stomach. Trolling around the Municipal District would allow her to establish an approach to her plans. _Wait, what are my plans?_ Maya's dining suggestions became mere background hum and Caitrin shook her head at every choice, as her mind began to drift back to Morcant's last message. She knew she had to find this "Donagh", but Caitrin wasn't even sure how to find him. _Hell, Donagh might even be an "it", for all I know_. Amazingly, Caitrin had arrived to the very place she needed to be but now had no clue what to do. _I doubt Donagh will find me, so I might as well start looking_.

"Well?"

Caitrin flinched as Maya's voice came back to full volume in her head. "Sorry, what?"

Maya rolled her eyes. "If you're going to shoot down every restaurant I say, then why don't you pick?" She turned the directory towards Caitrin and smiled. "You decide."

Caitrin scanned the list of Palace-recommended eateries and shrugged. "Tell you what," she said, tossing the tablet back on the nightstand. "Let's just start walking till we smell something good." Caitrin slid off the end of the bed. "Do you think Howell will care?"

Maya picked up the monetary exchange card their hosts graciously left on the other nightstand and tapped it playfully in her hands. "As long as the Andvarian government is paying, I don't think he'll mind."

* * *

After a quick change of clothes into something more suitable for pedestrian style, Maya and Caitrin stood in the lobby of the Guest Wing. The local dress was a bit on the bland side, with black and browns making up more than half of the ensemble most civilians were wearing. Both men and women wore slacks and jackets that corresponded with the falling temperature of the night air. Caitrin obligingly fit into a comfortable pair of dark slacks, and wore a hooded jacket made of cotton. Maya had shook her head over Caitrin's choice of outerwear, saying the jacket would be too thin to preserve any heat. Maya decided to go completely native and wore a black jumpsuit with way too many pockets and a khaki duster coat.

Caitrin snickered. "You look like a farmer who's trying to impersonate a pilot."

"You're wrong," Maya said with a wink. "It's the other way around."

They approached the security checkpoint and an armed guard stood rigidly but gave them a nod, looking them up and down. "You ladies going out for the evening?"

"Yes, but we'll be back before too long," Maya responded.

The guard took both of their IDs and gave them a casual glance. He then frowned and looked to both women. "You're security personnel for the Ambassador, right?"

Caitrin slowly nodded. "Is that a problem?"

"No," the man said, looking them over once again. He opened his mouth then clamped it back down. "You are permitted to carry a firearm unconcealed, if you so choose."

Maya raised an eyebrow and did her best to hide her shock. "Really?" She exchanged glances with Caitrin. "That's . . . good to know."

"We'll be fine." Caitrin hastily took their IDs, pushed Maya along, and nodded to the guard. "Thank you."

"Have a pleasant time," the man called after them.

They made their escape through the portico and stopped short once they stepped into the hum of the busy sidewalk. As if verifying the guard's previous statement, Maya nudged Caitrin with an elbow and motioned to the holster of a passing civilian. "He wasn't kidding."

Quietly, Caitrin shook her head and scanned the streets' contents. The pedestrians, most wearing some fashion of a duster, were going about their business armed with pistols on their hips. A light breeze played through the crowd, ruffling some of the people's coats to reveal shinny, simple weapons. Caitrin immediately felt out of her element, imagining herself in some old-style screenplay complete with cowboys and saloons. She leaned over to whisper. "You want to go back and get something to defend ourselves?"

Maya smiled. "If anything does happen to us, I'm sure the locals will put an end to it fairly quickly."

Caitrin snorted. "Yeah, by dropping us with a couple slugs through the chest," she muttered under her breath.

Maya gave a sideways stare. "You've never been to the outer colonies, have you?"

"No."

She slung an arm over Caitrin's shoulder and started leading her up the sidewalk towards the harsh city lights. "Things are a bit laid back out here. You'll be surprised how quick people are to preserve the peace 'round these parts."

"Yeah, that's what scares me."

Maya sighed and Caitrin detected nervousness in her roommate's voice. "Yeah. Me, too."

They did their best to maintain a pace that matched the moving crowd, but found the constant apologies match up with every shoulder bump. Caitrin and Maya only had to walk for a handful of blocks till they reached a string of restaurants arranged around a central courtyard, much like one would find in a mall food court. The layout was in three tiers, with the top floor only catering to those with sufficient credits to have their personal vehicle valet for an outrageous cost. The middle section housed various sit-down diners and offered patio seating that overlooked the grassy courtyard. The bottom tier, which was also the most busy, was the quick-stop fast-food restaurants Caitrin had tried to avoid all her life.

"Well, which one?"

Maya pulled out the expense card their hosts had supplied them. "Hey, when in Rome."

Caitrin grimaced. "We should probably stick with something average," she said, pointing to the second floor of diners. "Besides, who knows what kind of special foods Andvarians consider a delicacy? You know how high society treats its food: small portions and exotic flavors."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Maya motioned for Caitrin to lead the way. "You pick."

Caitrin chose the less crowded _NightStar_ on the hope that "few people" just meant more privacy rather than the avoidance of the food served here. Caitrin asked to be seated somewhere private and was surprised when the waiter led them to the patio area. The closest patrons were tucked away in the bar with a few spilling out into nearby tables. With no one in earshot or paying any particular attention to them, Caitrin felt some of the tension ease in her shoulders. Aside from the buzz emitting from the drinkers at the bar, Maya and Caitrin were placed in relative silence along the outer edge of the patio.

"Will you look at this?" Maya asked, tapping the glass canopy rising up from the thick railing. "Nice touch."

Caitrin nodded and found the attention to detail quite impressive. The curved glass insulated _NightStar_ from the elements as well as the noise from the ground floor and other restaurants. Their table, siding up next to the railing, was worn and cracked, but it appeared that was the intent. The floor was made up of rich, dark wood planks that looked very aged and Caitrin could believe they really were old. The ceiling was a white metal lattice with natural green vines snaked through various openings. Sconces provided the illumination and bathed the patio in a soft golden light. "It sure does make one feel comfortable."

As they received their drinks and munched on some fried appetizers Maya had ordered, Caitrin couldn't help but feel somewhat guilty. Here she was, eating a nice meal in the company of a friend, and she still had not made any progress on her quest to find the truth of her husband's fate. Part of Caitrin dismissed the guilt, saying she had to look for the initiative rather than jump right in. But the other voice inside her head told her she needed to focus and truly seek out this 'Donagh'. _After dinner_, she told herself. _Then we'll walk around town and mosey about._

"That's not going to be enough."

"What?" Caitrin asked Maya, taken aback by the roommate reading her thoughts.

"What you ordered. You're still going to be hungry." Maya frowned. "What did you think I meant?"

"Oh, nothing," Caitrin replied and grabbed another fried stick of starch off the center plate. "Well, let me ask you something." She took a quick drink of a local tea brew to wash down the appetizer. "Does this place seem at all like an Insurrectionist stronghold?"

Maya bit into her starch stick and shook her head. "Not from what we've seen so far." She gestured to the bar with her half-eaten stick. "Did you catch what was on those projectors?"

Caitrin squinted past the haze of the bar's interior to look at the screens strategically arrayed above the counter. "Sports games. They're watching sports, so what?"

Maya leaned forward. "Yeah, they're watching _local_ sports teams play. How laid back does a community have to be to organize and holovise games?"

Caitrin nodded. "One that's got some security and peace of mind that their world is stable enough to enjoy themselves."

"Exactly." She popped the rest of her appetizer in her mouth and started talking before completely masticating. "Of course, we've only seen a small portion of Milanó."

"Yeah." Caitrin played with her straw, punching the blocks of ice that had settled at the top of her tea. Movement to her left, through the slits in the railing, brought her head around. Outside in the courtyard, a group of three dozen white-robed figures were making quite an entrance. Arrayed in a diamond-shaped formation and hiding their faces under hoods, the group held flickering candles as they slowly progressed in a "C" route around the edges of the courtyard. "Maya, look."

"I see them."

Most people moved aside, paying the white-robed figures little attention, but other stopped to stare. Some pedestrians even waved their fists and shouted, but their voices were inaudible due to the patio privacy glass.

The clanking of plates against the table caused both women to jump, as the waiter set their entrées before them. "Your dinner, madams."

Caitrin gave a casual look at her food, found it fit what she had ordered, and then pointed out to the courtyard. "Sir, do you know what those people are doing out there?"

The waiter craned his neck to get a quick look and then sighed. "They're Loyalists protesting Administrator Mahlon's authority." He retrieved the appetizer plate. "Is there anything else you require?"

"Wait a second," Maya said, holding up a hand. "Loyalists? Loyal to whom?"

The waiter gave her a quizzical look. "Loyal to the UNSC. I presume these small demonstrations are an attempt to mock the peaceful ones Mahlon had organized before the last election."

"So the whole planet isn't on the Administrator's side?"

The server looked down his nose at Maya. "Of course not. Just because Naomi Mahlon won the election doesn't mean she ran unopposed."

Caitrin looked up at the towering man. "Who ran against her?"

The waiter seemed to deflate at rehashing past politics. "A puppet the UNSC would have controlled, I'm sure." He closed his eyes for a moment. "Thorin. Samuel Thorin, if I remember correctly." He nodded and motioned to their plates. "Enjoy," he said, and quickly departed.

Caitrin and Maya sat motionless for the better part of a minute, just locked in a mask of shock.

Caitrin finally took several gulps from her glass to parch a dry mouth and shook her head. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" she asked in a whisper.

Maya slowly nodded. "The Ambassador has more skin in this game."

"Yeah, and I don't doubt he'll do everything he can to guarantee a positive outcome."

"Well, this 'Samuel' is definitely a relative of the Ambassador, no doubt." Maya placed her elbows on the table and collected her fingers together near her face. "But what does this change? Anything?"

Caitrin sighed and sagged in her chair. _This latest bit of intel has only informed us Herod's obviously gunning for his relative to take Mahlon's seat. The previous incident with the Cryo-pod told us how conniving Herod and Yunker could be, so why should this be any different?_ Caitrin cleared her throat. "But do you think the Ambassador might try something?"

Maya unfolded her fingers and picked up her knife and fork. "At this point, what can we do? Too many variables to calculate, Taryn."

Caitrin took a deep breath. _Too many variables_. "So we just ignore this?"

Maya twirled some noodles around her fork and used her knife to point to the side of her head. "I've got it bagged and cataloged up here." She took a bite of the light brown pasta covered in red sauce and her eyes widened. "This is really good."

Getting her first real look at her own food, Caitrin realized she did indeed order little in sustenance. The dark liquid mass confined in a bowl steamed, and she inhaled the spicy scent of her soup. As she dipped a spoon and slurped the warm broth, Caitrin didn't really feel all that hungry anymore. She couldn't tear her mind from the idea that Herod and his cronie was planning something devious at the negotiations. _But what can I do? _She swallowed her spoonful of soup and felt its warmth flood into her. She welcomed the sting in her nostrils and smiled at Maya. "This isn't bad either."

Maya returned the smile and continued devouring her meal.

Caitrin turned her attention back to the courtyard where the Loyalist group was departing. The three dozen individuals broke formation, split into two groups, and they left, traveling in opposite ways down the sidewalk. _Too many variables, indeed._

* * *

They gathered their things to leave _NightStar _when an overly gracious man at the bar offered to pick up Caitrin and Maya's check. He gave them a wink, raised his glass, and motioned with his head to another man sitting beside him. Both patrons wore big smiles, and both were decidedly drunk.

"Watch this," Maya said. She got up and strutted towards the pair. She playful leaned against the bar with her shoulders back and whipped her hair about. She spoke a few words Caitrin couldn't hear and the two men hastily slapped a generous amount of credits on the counter top and pointed to Caitrin's table. The two drunks nearly stumbled over one another hurrying to the door. Maya kicked off the bar and casually walked back to the table with her hands out to her sides. "Tada."

A smirk formed over Caitrin's face. "What did you say to them?"

Maya pulled her duster off the back of the chair and put it on. "Oh, I told them two _very _attractive women from out of town would love to have a 'personal' tour of the city, if someone could cover their tab."

Caitrin glared. "You didn't."

"Relax, Taryn. I told them to meet us across the street in five minutes, which is where we _won't_ be." She pointed a thumb over her shoulder. "Let's take the long way back to the Palace. There's an alley sandwiched in between two burger joints down on the first level that leads to a side street. I say we head that way."

Shaking her head, Caitrin zipped up her jacket. "Lead the way."

Caitrin felt like a true undercover spy, ducking down a dark alleyway to reach the back street that Maya had mentioned. The tall walls that stretched to the sky on both sides muted the sounds of the city. The alley was surprisingly free of clutter with only a few bits of trash floating in small puddles left over from the afternoon rain. As they neared the end of the alley, Caitrin expected the hum of the city to once again assault her ears, but instead she found the side street eerily silent. Her stomach began to ache, but it wasn't from the soup she had ingested. It was for the lack of being armed. The closest thing she had to a weapon was her hands and feet.

Maya slowed her pace, sensing uneasiness as well. She stretched out her hand to halt Caitrin's progress and held up a finger to her mouth. "Shh. You hear that?" she whispered.

Caitrin leaned her head forward and caught the briefest of sibilance echoing off a building's loading dock door across the street. She grabbed Maya by the forearm and hauled her to the right. They both flattened themselves against the cool stone surface and strained their ears.

"Look, I didn't come all this way to find a group of Innies not worth the words they carry on their signs," a gruff voice growled.

"Talk is cheap, after all," a female voice soothed. "Rest assured we will be prepared to act when you give the signal."

The man snorted. "Yeah, sure. When the meeting starts, your people better be ready."

"Always a pleasure to hear from you."

Risking a peek around the corner, Caitrin poked her head far enough till she could see the two figures a dozen meters away. One was dress in all black, complete with a hooded cloak, while the other wore the same white robes as the Loyalist group she had seen earlier. They stood face to face with their backs to the buildings on either side, presenting Caitrin with their profiles. From the white-clad individual's stance Caitrin could tell that was the female. The man that gravely spoke was completely hidden in his clothing, presenting Caitrin another problem. The conversation she overheard was so vague that it could have been about any such meeting. But Caitrin's gut told her she needed to find out what was going on.

She felt Maya below her, crouching in the shadows to get a look for herself. Maya gave a gasp. "That's Yunker!" she hissed as quietly as she could.

The conspirators' heads snapped in Caitrin and Maya's direction, the sole overhead light casting shadows that hid their facial features, then both turned and started walking away in a hurried pace. Caitrin's heart felt as if it had slid down and was being devoured by her stomach. _It couldn't be, could it? The Ambassador's aide?_

Maya stepped into the side street and watched the departing conspirators disappear into the sidewalk pedestrian traffic. Her eyes wide with fright, she turned to Caitrin. "This is not good."

Caitrin looked down the opposite end of the street to find it would dump them out to a quieter section of town. "We should head back to the Palace, Maya," she said with a quivering voice.

The older woman worked her jaw for a moment. "I knew we should have kept a closer eye on that scum bag." She jerked her head to the direction Caitrin was looking. "Let's go."


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"I'm _positive_ it was him."

James Howell leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. Underneath a furrowed brow, his eyes darted to Maya. "Look, we're all a bit frazzled by the tempo shift of the past few days." He pivoted in his chair to face Caitrin. "Did you see his face?"

Caitrin shifted uneasily on her feet, exchanging a quick glance with Maya. Her roommate's eyes longed for confirmation. Caitrin scratched the back of her neck. "I didn't get a very good look from where I was, Sir." Maya let out the slightest sign, almost undetectable, and Caitrin closed her eyes. "But I do not doubt Maya's claim."

Howell raised an eyebrow. "Even though you were there, you can't confirm it?"

The medium-sized anteroom reserved for the Head of Security was quiet for a few drawn-out seconds before Howell stood and walked over to a table covered with a variety of alcoholic drinks, ranging from simple ale to the really hard stuff. He grabbed a small glass and began examining his choices, reading the labels in an untrained manner. "So what would you suggest we do, Barros?"

Maya opened her hands. "We have to do something, Sir. _Anything_. Call off the meeting, schedule it for another time or place, it doesn't matter. Yunker has something planned, and if we don't find out what this is, a lot of innocent people could get hurt."

"Or the Ambassador could be in danger," Caitrin offered.

Howell finally came to a small flask and wafted a quick sniff. He shrugged and filled his glass an eighth full. He swirled the dark liquid around and raised his glass. "Those are valid points, but I'm afraid diplomatic immunity is an unsavory beast." He took a quick sip and coughed through the swallow. He clutched the edge of the table and set the glass down.

"Are you okay, Sir?" Caitrin asked, eyeing him carefully. Now that Caitrin thought about it, she had never seen this sort of body language from her commander. He was all fragile and disconnected.

He coughed several more times, cleared his throat, and straightened up. "I'm fine." Howell shook his head. "There's little to do, anyway. The meeting is in the heart of the Palace, free from any prying eyes or even the Press. We're going to need everyone we have available to safeguard our . . . assets." He took a smaller sip from his glass and only coughed once.

Maya snorted. "Isn't it a little early to start drinking, Sir?"

Howell glanced at his wristwatch and shrugged. "Forty years is much too late, in my opinion." He scratched the red hair around his left ear and collapsed back in the chair he had previously vacated. He set his glass on the flattened right arm of the chair and leaned forward. "Look, I don't trust Yunker _or_ Thorin, but my job is to keep them from harm and keep my people safe." He sighed and lowered his head, revealing a bald spot that was usually hidden underneath his cap. "If either one of them is planning something felonious tomorrow, then we'll just have to keep a close eye on them."

"What if that's not enough?" Maya murmured.

He looked up with weariness in his eyes. "Then safeguard what you can."

Both women left their commanding officer to his further examinations of alcohol and managed to distract themselves with an early lunch. They wandered the halls of the Palace for a while till the warmth of the local, overhead star, Sigur, beckoned them outside. But their dark mood seemed to follow them, as gray clouds quickly formed to block the sunlight.

Caitrin sat on the steps of the Central Garden fountain and picked at some loose stone fragments in a crack. It was midday and most of the Guest Wing's occupants were eating in the dining hall inside. Caitrin looked up from her fidgeting and noticed only a handful of people spread out on benches in the wide-open area. None seemed to be paying Caitrin or Maya any attention, allowing a certain level of privacy for the roommates. The overcast sky looked as if it would start raining any second, but Caitrin knew it would hold off for a few hours. _After all, you could set your watch to the weather here_.

Maya flicked another coin into the multi-tiered fountain and sighed. "I can't stand it, Taryn."

Caitrin turned her torso around, eliciting a crack from a few lumbar. "The waiting or our predicament?"

"Yeah." Maya pocketed the remaining coins and lowered herself next to Caitrin. "We don't know _what_ Yunker is planning, but we know _when_."

"Well, let's go through some options." Caitrin started ticking points off on her fingers. "Yunker was speaking with a member of the Loyalists."

Maya nodded. "That we are sure of."

"Second, Thorin's relative most likely wants another shot at the Admin," she said. "_And_ we know Thorin and Yunker have a knack for disruption."

"You've got that right," Maya muttered, then shook her head. "But Howell's right; the meeting is taking place at a secure location, so what can the Loyalists actually do?"

Caitrin sighed. "I don't know." She returned to the cracked surface of the steps, prodding another pebble loose. "The most they could do is what, protest?"

"I guess so, but it seems like there's something big going to happen."

"Like a riot?"

Maya nodded. "That would sway in the Ambassador's favor. Any sign of instability would benefit his arguments." She stood and started pacing back and forth on the lowest step. "Taryn, I just want to get this over with and go home."

"Well, either the political talks are successful or we convince Captain Abbott we need to leave."

"That will be nothing short of a miracle on both accounts."

Caitrin rolled the gray pebble in her hand. "But we still have our duties to the STSD, so aside from snooping around in our off-time, we have little we could do."

Maya stopped her pacing and gave Caitrin a predatory smile. "What kind of snooping do you have in mind?"

She abruptly stood and walked down to stand with Maya, seeing if anyone was within earshot. She leaned in slightly, conspiratorially. "Maya, we are on thin ice as it is. We were lucky Howell didn't reprimand us for venturing out into the city last night."

Maya pulled her head back, a frown forming on her face. "If it wasn't for us, we wouldn't even know Yunker's plan."

"But that's just it. We don't know his plan."

"So we do nothing?"

"We--" Caitrin sighed and felt a knot beginning to form in her neck. Every point they brought up ended in the same circular pattern that led to a stalemate. "We just have to be ready for anything."

Maya hissed through her teeth. "Yeah, we'll have to watch Yunker the entire time."

Caitrin nodded slowly. "We don't have much of a choice."

* * *

The next day was a whirlwind of activity. Caitrin had woken up early to go running in the cool morning mist and returned to find Maya still asleep. They both got ready, donning on their uniforms, and regrouped with Howell and the other security officers in the Palace Dining Hall.

"We have reason to believe there might be some trouble that will stir up over this meeting," Howell informed. He had cleaned himself up well, looking every bit the poster image of a Skyline Transport Security Detail officer. "Being under the jurisdiction of Milanó, this will be a joint operation with the Andvarians. You have your assignments, so get to it."

The group began to dissolve, and some officers mumbled to each other about his duties or lack there of. Caitrin closed the distance to Howell, who was speaking with a Palace Security officer in low tones. He glanced up and nodded to her. "Sir, is there a reason the meeting has been switched to the Central Garden?"

The Andvarian's chin came up and answered for Howell. "It was deemed prudent by the People's Representatives to show the world that Administrator Mahlon welcomes alternative views." He gave a tight-lipped smile. "The journalists are also allowed to be present."

Caitrin's mouth hung open. "And they didn't think of the security risks involved?"

Howell quickly stepped between them and grabbed Caitrin's elbow. "The Ambassador has agreed to these terms, Officer Collin. I suggest you keep your comments to yourself." His brow furrowed and he gave the most abbreviated shake of his head, telling Caitrin to drop the issue.

_Howell may not like the situation any more than I may, but he has to follow orders_. She sighed. Yes, Sir." Caitrin saluted and turned on her left heel to head out of the dining hall. She caught sight of Maya leaning against the stone wall of the main corridor with her arms folded across her chest. Caitrin raised her hands and shook her head.

Maya frowned. "Howell didn't tell you why the meeting location was changed?"

"That Andvarian said the Senate declared the meeting 'open to scrutiny', in a way." She took a spot next to Maya along the wall. "Howell _did_ say Thorin is going along with it."

Maya's expression deepened. "What's your assignment? Cause mine is monitoring the journalists after Palace Security is done screening them. I'll stay close enough to monitor the Ambassador."

Caitrin shrugged. "Actually, I'm kind of surprised. I'll be shadowing Yunker."

Maya raised an eyebrow. "Really?" She looked over Caitrin's shoulder then leaned in to whisper. "You make sure he doesn't try anything funny."

She gave a week smile. "I'll do my best."

"Good." Maya squeezed Caitrin's right arm. "You be careful."

"You too." Caitrin paused for a moment, sensing Maya was holding something back, but her roommate merely nodded once and moved past her. As Caitrin watched Maya leave, she frowned. _Is she hiding something from me?_ She felt someone's eyes on her and she quickly spun around. Standing in the doorway of the dining hall, Caitrin caught Kinnison in a half-turn. Fed up with the apprehension she held towards the ex-marine, she marched up to him.

He was a quick study. He stiffened and got the first word in. "Officer Collin, how are you?"

Caitrin pointed a finger at him, but kept her voice quiet. "Don't be coy with me, Kinnison. I saw you staring at us."

He nodded and kept his features totally passive. "I heard you two were the ones to tip off Howell of the impending trouble at the meeting."

She narrowed her eyes. "How did you hear about that?"

He shrugged mechanically. "People talk; I tend to keep my ears open." He held up a hand to forestall a comment from Caitrin. "Look, I, for one, believe you. I don't like what Yunker pulled back on _Emissary_ anymore than you. He's got enough suspiciousness about him that the orbital platforms could pick him up on radar."

"Yeah," Caitrin said. "I'll be his personal shield today."

He raised his eyebrows a centimeter, if that. "That's fitting." Kinnison sighed. "I've been assigned to reinforce the Palace barrier at the main entrance. Should be loads of fun."

"I'd keep my eye on any Loyalists in the crowd."

"Thanks." He clicked his heels and left.

She watched him leave, noting his precision-like amble contrasting with her feeling of anxiety. Caitrin shivered at the weariness that washed over her. _Just make it through today, then you can start worrying about something else_. She shrugged at her own thoughts. _There's always something to worry about._

* * *

Neil Yunker looked unequivocally calm as Caitrin escorted him from his private chambers that was placed next to Thorin's. Their footsteps echoed off the tiled floor as they walked alone without exchanging a single word. The silence didn't last long. Slowly, the thrum of the gathered media crowd rose to replace the thumping of boots as they neared the garden.

Yunker looked over to Caitrin and smiled. "Showtime." He picked up his pace and raised his hands to greet the media frenzy. He stopped a meter short of the roped off area the Press was situated behind. A knot of camera operators and finely-groom anchors wielding recording comms and security badges turned their attention to the Ambassador's aide. Yunker lowered his hands and pointed to one female journalist. "Yes, you."

"Does the Colonial Administration Authority have any chance of reaching a compromise with Administrator Mahlon?" the blond woman asked.

Caitrin panned the crowd, searching for anything out of the ordinary. She frowned when nothing stood out. Being a Military Police Officer most of her adult life had taught her a few things about crowd control, but with the heightened awareness needed to spot a suspicious Loyalist, she found the quick scan unfruitful.

"Ambassador Thorin is aware of the strength Andvarians have, and he admires it. The CAA is looking forward to working with the Sigur System once again." He bowed his head and started walking towards the assembled desks and podium. He waved away more questions from the journalist and started conversing with some lavishly dressed local official.

_Probably a Mayor or something_. Caitrin remained at Yunker's side, eyeing him and those he greeted with a cautious gaze. Whatever Yunker had planned she still had to keep him from harm. _As much as I'd rather seem him tossed down a drainage ditch, I don't want him dead_.

"Neil Yunker, aide to Ambassador Herod Thorin," Yunker said, shaking the hand of the politician.

The older man, whose sunken features reminded Caitrin of a cadaver, smiled. "Delighted. I am Governor Randolph Alizie of the State of Jannis." He motioned with his free hand to encompass the crowd. "Quite the reverse of the meeting that was planned, wouldn't you say?"

Yunker patted his left hand over their embraced right hands. "I assure you, it is for the best. Transparency in any government is welcomed by the people, is it not?"

Alizie's eyes brightened, and Caitrin could finally see some life flood into the Governor's face. "Oh yes, of course. Pleasure to meet you."

"And you."

Caitrin followed Yunker around as he dispensed with his pleasantries for another 15 minutes. She did get sight of Maya, but her roommate was too busy with crowd control to acknowledge Caitrin's presence. If anything, Maya looked flustered beyond her normal range.

Once finding his seat, Caitrin stood behind Yunker who was placed at the end of the small CAA table. He poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher and took a long drink. The day's weather was turning out to be quite pleasant, but anyone swathed in the layers of ceremonial garb that Yunker and the other politicians wore would have been a little cooked, for certain.

The Ambassador's arrival into the garden was nothing short of the pomp and circumstance Caitrin had expected. An announcement was made and people began to clap even before he was visible. As Thorin walked in waving and smiling, the multiple flashpanels briefly illuminated his face in a white light, making him look like a ghost during the strobe effect. He graciously, if not artificially, took his seat at the head of the table, and the two STSD security guards that flanked him during his entrance took a similar parade-rest stance to Caitrin's left. Thorin and Yunker exchanged words briefly then stood up when a fanfare blared over the sound system.

The large double doors of the main portico parted and Naomi Mahlon exited in the most extravagant of entrances yet. She wore a deep red gown, almost crimson, complete with a head covering that reminded Caitrin of the type true nobility would wear. Mahlon wore her long hair down, accentuating her slender frame. Her smile, while not showing any teeth, brought a cheer from the two large tables designated for the Regional Governors and the People's Representatives. A half dozen individuals escorted her, ranging from security to aides and ensigns.

Caitrin tore her eyes away from the Administrator to focus on the Andvarian politicians. Almost all wore a grin that stretch from ear to ear, a certain pride brimming over to match their ovation. But a handful of Representatives were standing with their arms folded in mute protest. She cataloged that fact away for further use when she would need it.

Mahlon slowly made her way to the large, wooden podium, and offered handshakes and bows to all in her route. Caitrin had to take several steps back when the Administrator walked past, greeting Thorin like they had never met before. More cameras flashed and the applause subsided with the lowering of Mahlon's hands. On both sides of the dais, the government members took their seats.

"Citizens of Andvari, I offer you a chance to see the transparency you and your families have longed for. We are . . . "

Caitrin immediately began to tune her out as she again searched the faces of those gathered for any signs of overt discontent. Those same Representatives who didn't clap for Mahlon sat with their cheerless expressions, but they didn't seem fuming. _I wonder if their constituents feel the same way_. A click over the comm brought her hand up to adjust the volume of her earpiece. She bent her head down slightly at an angle. "Collin, here."

"Taryn? It's me, Maya. See anything yet?"

She frowned and looked over Yunker's head to spot Maya at the corner of the roped off Press area. Maya was doing her best to be discreet, but with the crowd hanging on every word the Administrator spoke, it didn't look good for the security team to be chatting away. "No," she whispered. "Maya we can't talk now." The STSD guard beside her cleared his throat in disgust. Caitrin sighed. "We'll talk later." She clicked off her comm and straightened back up.

Across the way, Maya's shoulders slumped in defeat. She nodded slowly, a sign of accommodation.

Caitrin wanted to apologize, but she was no doubt in some camera's frame. The last thing she needed was to be reprimanded for talking openly while the politicians had the floor. Lost in her thoughts once again, she started to hear a distant roar. Puzzled, she strained her ears. It sounded like muffled static or a distorted recording of water rushing over a brook. It became so loud Mahlon halted her speech and looked up as if expecting the answer to her unspoken question to fall from the sky.

The comm clicked. "This is Kinnison. We have a situation here."

Howell's voice came back, sounding tiny but clear in Caitrin's ear. "Report."

Kinnison's reply was lost in a wash of static.

Yunker rose from his chair and placed a hand on Thorin's shoulder. "I'll go speak with the crowd to calm them down." The Ambassador frowned for a moment then nodded. Yunker turned to Caitrin and motioned for her to lead the way. "Shall we?" he asked with suspicious calm.

Caitrin shook her head adamantly, but the cold stare Yunker gave her told her this was not a request. She worked her jaw for a few seconds. "Yes, Mr. Yunker."

As they marched out towards the Palace's main entrance, Howell continued to try and reach Kinnison on the comm. "Kinnison, please respond."

She picked up her pace and was pleased to see Yunker stayed with her. A few extra guards from the STSD and Palace Security ran past with concerned looks on their faces. She exited the main corridor and stepped into the large foyer that connected with half a dozen hallways and rooms, along with the main entrance. The huge front doors were open to reveal the source of the noise.

Several hundred, if not a thousand, Andvarians crowded the Palace driveway with even more spilling out into the front lawn. Most were shouting "Loyalist" and holding signs that were pro-UNSC, but there was also a faction protesting the protesters. Those individuals looked much the same, but held their attention on the anti-Andvari government protesters. None were wearing the white robes she was expecting. Caitrin caught Kinnison shoving back some eager middle-age woman with his shockstick unpowered. The guard with the UNSC tattoos on his neck appeared calm, despite holding the crowd at bay, but Caitrin saw worry in his eyes when Kinnison looked back to the relief he so desperately needed.

He motioned with his head for her to look up, and Caitrin did. Someone, most likely an independent broadcast company, had chosen to erect a giant two-dimensional screen right on the western lawn, projecting the meeting in real-time. At the moment, the only thing on the screen was the Andvari government crest: A three-headed avian with two pairs of wings and four legs, each leg grasping a different object, surrounded by a circle of stars.

Kinnison cleared his throat. "Something must be jamming us," he told Caitrin.

Behind her, Caitrin felt Yunker step up and rest a hand on her shoulder. He moved to stand beside her in the doorway and raised his hands. She swore under her breath and tried to press him back, but he held his ground. "People of Andvari," he bellowed, "I ask for calm."

Remarkably, the crowd, at least those siding with the Loyalist, began to cheer for Yunker. A new chant began resounding through the chaos. "Thorin! Thorin!" they yelled in one accord.

Caitrin turned around to speak loudly into Yunker's left ear. "This is not a good idea. We need to get you back inside to someplace safe."

Yunker's face soured, and anger seeped into his words. "You don't understand these people." He raised his head, a smile returning to his face. "_I_ do," he said to Caitrin out of the side of his grin.

More Palace security guards streamed out from the foyer to reinforce the human barrier, finally freeing Kinnison from fending for ground. He walked backwards towards Caitrin, all the while keeping his eye on the mob. "Something's wrong here," he commented to her. "Very wrong."

The scene in the alleyway flashed before Caitrin's eyes. _'Rest assured we will be prepared to act when you give the signal.'_ Caitrin tensed and grabbed Kinnison's arm. "We need to get him out of here, _now_."

Kinnison nodded and both of them turned around to escort Yunker back inside.

However when the Ambassador's aide lowered his hands, the crowd noise diminished to a low hum. "Rest assured, Ambassador Thorin will see this through to the end." He slowly nodded twice.

A lone voice shouted from the crowd, "Freedom for Andvari! Freedom from oppression!"

Spinning her head around, Caitrin saw the young, rebellious-looking youth reel back his arm with an unknown object in his hand. "Look out!" Caitrin shouted.

But it was too late. The stone crossed the distance to the back of Kinnison's head in half a second, striking him just behind the right ear. The stone smashed his comm unit and the ex-marine fell to the ground. He staggered to support his weight, clutching his bleeding skull.

"No! You must not do this!" Yunker cried.

From elsewhere in the mass of people, another rock took flight, this time coming straight for Caitrin. She ducked just in time to avoid being hit, and grabbed a handful of Yunker's tunic. "Go, go!" she ordered over the swelling roar of the crowd.

Without question, Yunker dove through the row of Palace security that lined the doorway, soiling his pristine robes on the entryway mats. Shielding her head with her hands, Caitrin followed, landing beside him on the floor. She pushed him aside, and he backpedaled into the safety of the stone walls. "Stay there!" she told him.

Caitrin hunched over and went back outside to find Kinnison. He was crawling on the ground, weaving a path to her between the baton-waving guards' legs. His eyes were defocused and blood dripped from his chin. She took his hand. "C'mon!"

He nodded absently, and held on through the maze. He groped for balance, but found nothing to help support his weight. Caitrin reached around his shoulder and hauled him to his feet, smearing blood on her uniform. She somehow managed to get to the doorway and lower him to the ground beside Yunker without further incident.

She risked a quick look back outside and was taken aback at what she saw. The crowd was no longer shouting towards the Palace, but at each other. Fist flew and punches landed. Still more stones flew through the air to strike at the security team, but the darkly uniformed Palace guards activated a type of riot shield Caitrin had never seen before. A soft pink glow flashed to life in an oval shape that covered them from head to toe. They fanned out with shocksticks humming, ready to quell those unlucky enough to get in the way. Those protesters closest to the main entrance collapsed in a heap when the voltage from the shocksticks hit them. The rest of the crowd got the message and began dispersing, stumbling over one another. No longer where the two groups fighting each other, but both were looking to avoid a beating or a painful stun.

A sound like ice falling off branches surpassed the roar of the mob, and Caitrin ducked back inside to see a window high up in the foyer shatter from a barrage of stones. The glass rained down off to her right, a good dozen meters from where Kinnison and Yunker lay, but larger pieces struck the ground and ricocheted up at odd angles. Caitrin spun around to avoid the shards but felt the sharp stings on her legs and back. Fortunately for Kinnison and Yunker, her body shielded both men that were sprawled out on the foyer floor.

She cringed and cursed through the pain. Her legs gave out and she fell onto the floormat before a dazed Kinnison. She closed her eyes and yelled.

"Hold on, Collin!"

Caitrin blinked back newly formed tears and looked up to see James Howell's face. More windows shattered as he pulled both Caitrin and Kinnison up to a hobbling march to safety. Caitrin felt the pain pulsing from her legs and lower back, but she was able to grit her teeth through the half-walk.

Howell finally lower her to the ground inside the main corridor where trauma teams ran to examine the injured. They took Caitrin by the arms, carefully supporting her weight, and rested her on a gurney.

Lying on her side with her eyes closed, an old adage Morcant used to say came to Caitrin's mind: _"War is long moments of boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror." _She internally snorted. _If that isn't the story of the past weeks, I don't know what is_.

As if confirming her thoughts, the sound and vibrations of a distant explosion reached her and rattled Caitrin to the core. _I doubt there will be "long moments of boredom" anymore_.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"I can do it, daddy."

"Let's do it together, Sweetheart."

Those words echoed in her mind, but Caitrin couldn't quite place them.

"I can reach the pedals, just give me a push."

"Okay, Cait, just keep it steady. One, two, three!"

Recognition clicked and Caitrin felt a wave of thick emotion wash over her as she could picture the scene in her mind's eye. It was of when she was a little girl, eight years old, and her dad was teaching her how to ride a bicycle. The memory was so vivid she could almost taste it. The light breeze blowing across the recently plowed fields smelled of fresh earth that mixed with the scent of flowers lining the front of their two-story farmhouse. Her yellow dress covered in splotches of dirt from playing in the backyard. The gravelly driveway felt shaky underneath worn tires, but her father's tight grip on the rear of the seat kept her steady. Her tangled mess of red hair temporarily blocked her view, and she shook her head to rid herself of the distraction.

"Let go, daddy! I can do it."

The rich, warm chuckle poured like honey into Caitrin's ears, and her heart began to ache, knowing that her father's laughter was one of the things she missed most about him.

"Okay, hold on tight!"

She held on tightly, but the vibrations from the loose stone caused her to shake in her seat. Without the firm hand of her father, the bike convulsed as it picked up speed. She stopped pedaling and stuck her feet out to the sides, but the distance to the ground was too great.

"Daddy!"

The curve in the driveway was coming up fast, and with it, the thorn bushes that outlined their property. Fear etched its way into the memory and Caitrin knew what would happen next. Gritting her teeth, she pulled with her left hand and pushed with her right to bring the handlebars away from the inevitable sting. The front tire veered away and buckled as tiny rocks kicked up and struck her bare shins. Off balance, she feel forward, barely getting her right palm out to cushion the impact. Pain lanced up her side as she hit the ground, the bike tumbling over her, pinning her body in place.

"Cait!"

Appearing from the rising dust cloud, her father was at her side in an instant, carefully removing the bent and crooked frame of the bicycle off her trembling legs. He tossed the wreckage away as if it were a lethal viper. Gently, he bent down and picked her up off the ground, shushing her cries of agony. He took her bleeding hand in his and kissed it, his whiskers tickling her pale skin. She managed a short laugh and he held her tight.

She looked up into his weary brown eyes. "Daddy, I thought I could do it," she said through a few sniffles.

He knelt down to rest her on his knee. "You _were_ doing it, Cait." Her father tucked some loose red locks behind her right ear and kissed her forehead. "But do you remember what I told you?"

She frowned. "No, daddy."

The memory paused. Slightly disturbed, Caitrin couldn't recall what her father had said to her that day. Then it clicked together, like two interlocking puzzle pieces.

"You became afraid." He set her down and brushed the dust off of her dress. "There's going to be times in your life when you think you can do something that you're probably not ready for. The world might cave in and all hope might seem lost, but focus and let the good Lord be your guide, Cait." He gave her a smile. "You remember that verse?"

She nodded and wiped away a tear. "When I am afraid, I will trust in Thee."

His expression widened and he rested both hands on her shoulders. "That's right, Sweetheart. But that's not all of it. You were meant for amazing things, Cait. Your mom and I know that. We'll be here for you, just . . ."

His voice reverberated as if were trapped in a feedback loop, and static rose in its place. The memory defused and shifted violently from side to side, making Caitrin feel nauseous. _Wait! Daddy, wait!_

A new image swam into view: two closed caskets sat in the front of a cold, dark church. Caitrin shuddered at the sight. Pictures of her parents sat on easels, as a preacher read the 21st Psalm. On the easel to her right, Caitrin's mother was captured laughing at a joke her father had told. Her green eyes half squinted, her long auburn hair tied in a loose braid, and her smile was so soft, it was no wonder she had won her husband's affection. Caitrin realized she could have been looking into a mirror, seeing so much of herself in her mother.

Sorrow was finding a place somewhere between her throat and heart, but again, the image shifted. When her vision finally cleared, the scene of her wedding day blossomed in all the wonderful splendor Caitrin remembered. The cloudy day that promised rain, but never followed through. The old rickety gazebo just big enough for the pastor, bride, and groom. Morcant was saying his improvised vows as they held each others' hands.

"Caitrin, I'll always be there for you. In sickness and in health."

She mentally mouthed the words, "till death we do part . . . "

Caitrin eyes shot open and she abruptly sat up in bed. Her breathing was labored and she blinked back the tears, cascading them down already moistened cheeks. She cleared her eyes with thumb and forefinger and got her breathing under control. She looked up and panned her shadowy surroundings to find them unfamiliar. She frowned, not knowing how she had gotten to the room. She felt the soft sheets and couldn't recognize the fabric. The bed felt too hard for her comfort. She looked down at her attire to find a yellow nightgown she didn't recall owning. _What's going on?_

When she finally caught a glimpse of something familiar it was the jacket to a uniform draped over the foot of her bed. She reached down and picked it up, feeling the rough material in between her fingers. Caitrin read the letters "STSD" that were emblazoned on the upper left chest pocket. _Skyline Transport Security Detail_. The title bounced around in her brain till a few synapses connected and made sense of it all. _I'm undercover as a STSD guard_. She frowned. _I should know that without thinking, so why am I so disoriented?_

_"You probably ate too much of that soup."_

Her husband's voice shined like a light in her darkened mind. The memory of her groaning in the passenger seat on the ride home from an Asian restaurant bloomed before her mind's eye. Morcant patted her knee playfully. "You knew it was too spicy." She turned her head to see his reassuring smile.

Arbitrary thoughts of Morcant began to cycle through her head. The way her head fit just under his chin when locked in an embrace. His playful humor matching her our wit. The long Saturday mornings spent sleeping in. His kindness . . .

Without warning, Caitrin began to feel pieces of her life drift away, and she mentally tried to grab on to them. She felt random memories begin to fade into a sea of emotional distress. _No!_ "No!" She covered her mouth when her scratchy voice boomed into the silence of her room. She took several deep breaths to calm herself, and shook her head. _Lord, give me strength._

Still holding the jacket, she mentally ticked off points as her memory reconnected in an abnormal, backward fashion. _There was a meeting in the Palace and a riot broke out. I got here, Andvari, by disguising myself as part of the security detail for the political delegation aboard_ Emissary. _Commander Powelson pointed me in the direction to the Sigur System. Morcant left me a message_. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. _"Till death we do part . . ."_

She hastily started to recall her dream sequence.

Like a distant shout from a shipwrecked sailor, her father's words resounded in her ears again and she sighed. The fog slowly began to dissolve in her mind. _Maybe you're right, dad. Maybe in coming here I_ did _bite off more than I can chew_. She frowned. Reflecting back on her emotional state, she had jumped blindfolded and unstably into her husband's footsteps. Determination and the will to know the truth had been her prime motivators, but the depth of the entire situation was threatening to pull her back under the muck and mire.

Caitrin noted her failure to control Yunker's actions at the meeting. _I never should have let him get outside_. The most experience she ever had with crowd control had been with a few drunken and disorderly marines returning to base. She sighed again. _Four years in the Service and nothing to show for it_. Once Morcant took the ONI position, she had opted out for signing on for another short-term commitment to the UNSC. Caitrin and Morcant had wanted to start a family, and he had promised when he got back from his latest assignment they would.

_But those plans are now gone_. She looked down at her closed hands and forced them open. _Focus, Cait. You need to focus._ She took a deep breath and exhaled through her nostrils. _I don't need to make plans, I need to_ act.

A knock on the door sounded ten times louder to Caitrin than it should have, and a sliver of soft golden light entered the room. "Taryn?"

"Yeah?" she croaked.

The door opened all the way to permit Maya Barros into the room. "Are you okay? I thought I heard you scream." She quietly shut the door.

"I'm . . . doing okay," Caitrin answered.

Maya leaned against the closed door, a look of concern on her face. "Your legs okay? I was surprised how fast you were released from Medical. There must have been a dozen fragments of glass in you."

"What?" Caitrin pulled the sheets off fully and found her legs wrapped in gauze. Being consumed with the emotional battle, she had barely assessed her physical situation. She wiggled her toes for good measure and found no pain in doing the simple test. She pressed a hand on the right side of her thigh and applied a small amount of pressure. She felt no pain, so she lifted up the corner of the wrappings to get a peak at her skin. While red from obvious treatment, her thigh seemed to be fully healed. She examined her other leg and found similar results. She shrugged. "I guess I'm healing up pretty nicely."

Maya remained standing but moved to the side of Caitrin's bed. "That's good to hear. Their Chief Medical Officer said you'll be fine and should be able to remove your bandages tomorrow."

"I don't get it. I must have been unconscious for how long, a week, two weeks?"

"Nope, just a few days." Maya smiled. "Andvari has a native plant that is used to speed up trauma for all sorts of ailments. You and Kinnison should be fit for duty right around the same time."

_Kinnison_. Caitrin flashed back to the scene at the Palace's main entrance. _He took a bad blow to the head_. "How is he?"

"He'll be okay, though he is having some side-effects from the concussion. Medical wants to keep him for observation."

Caitrin tried to bend her knees but found the wrappings kept her from doing so. She pushed herself back against the headboard and patted the open spot to her right. Obligingly, Maya sat down stiffly. Caitrin could read something uneasy behind her roommate's eyes. "Maya, what's going on?"

She gave a lopsided grin and took a while to answer. "The Administrator has closed all traffic to and from the Palace in order to lock down the area." Maya sighed. "Apparently, one of Mahlon's supporters chucked a rock at you guys, and then all hell broke loose."

Caitrin nodded. _That's right. I got Yunker inside and went back out to get Kinnison. When we were both inside, a window was shattered and that's when I got injured._ "I remember. It was a close call."

Maya's expression turned glum. "Yeah, well they missed their target: Yunker. Thorin is fuming over this, saying this is proof that the radicals will stop at nothing to have their freedom."

"Sounds like the kind of backdoor politics back home." Caitrin shook her head. "What do everyone else say?"

Cracking her knuckles, Maya shrugged. "This is just one incident, but according to the local news broadcasts, there's been a shift in favor of the Loyalist Party in the most recent polls."

"But we know the truth behind it all," she said, as another puzzle piece fit into place.

"Huh?"

Caitrin leaned forward, feeling the stretch in her hamstrings. "Right when Yunker nodded two times, the protester that threw the first stone shouted something pro-Andvari. That must have been the signal. Yunker knew all along that staging the riot to look like it was started by the Patriot Party would boost the Loyalists standings."

Maya swore under her breath. "You're right, Taryn."

Caitrin could read even more trouble in her roommate's deep brown eyes. "And?"

"Since the riot, everyone has lost faith in the STSD's ability to protect, let alone listen to our ideas." She sighed. "Later that day, Thorin had an audience with Mahlon and announced that the blame should fall on Howell and us guards. We might be grasping at straws to think anyone will listen to us now. Our credibility is shot."

Caitrin leaned back slowly. _So that was it. Thorin had pushed us aside in one swift move._

"I tried, I really did, to speak with Mahlon or anyone else who would listen, but the dirt-side STSD are now confined to their quarters until Captain Abbott and the crew return with a repaired _Emissary_." She paused, looking down at the floor. "Then we are to leave and head back to UNSC-controlled space."

"_What_?! After all we've done, Thorin and Yunker are just tossing us to the curb like some useless piece of scrap metal?"

"It seems so. Palace security has taken over our duties."

Caitrin sat still, remaining silent for a while longer. "Do you think Thorin has some people in Palace Security that are Loyalist?" she asked, as a patch of ice began to form in her stomach.

Slowly, Maya nodded. "Could have."

"And we are the only ones that can connect Yunker to instigating the riot, right?"

Maya's eyes grew wide. "You think we might be on a hit list?"

Caitrin shivered. "I think it's a very likely possibility."

* * *

The next morning, Caitrin began removing her bandages, but the stiffness in her legs remained even after she careful bent her knees. She turned her body so her legs would dangle off the end of the bed and found the needle-like pain of sleeping muscles refusing to fully awake. Despite the tingle, she lowered herself to the ground. The tingles in her feet magnified tenfold, but she gritted through the odd sensation.

"Caitrin, you're up." Maya stood in the doorway, wiping her wet hands dry with a cloth. Her gaze shifted to Caitrin's lower half. "And . . . you're up, I see."

"Yep," she said through clenched teeth. "Good as new." Caitrin crinkled her toes several times to help alleviate the pain. She risked a step, but found steadier footing this time. Though the muscles in her legs shook, the pain began to evaporate. She turned to the side and cracked her right knee. "That feels better."

Maya raised an eyebrow. "You need any help?"

"No, I actually think I'll be fine." Caitrin sniffed the sweet scent in the air. "Breakfast?"

"Breakfast." She waved her through the doorway. "C'mon, you could use some real food."

They sat silently at the small table in their quarters' kitchen area. Maya barely touched her food, but Caitrin ate with a ravenous appetite.

Maya leaned back in her chair and took a sip from her steaming mug of coffee. "So what do we do now?"

Caitrin washed down the last forkful of starch with a swig from her cup of juice. "What do you mean? We're locked down, remember?"

Shrugging, Maya took another quick sip. "Since when did that stop us?"

Taking a similar pose in her own chair, Caitrin sighed. "If we're being singled out, and I can guarantee you we are, the second we step outside that door is when we'll be swarmed with Palace Security." She raised her glass and looked over the brim to meet Maya's eyes. "We've seen their handiwork."

Maya snorted. "Yeah."

The news broadcast had reported two people dead and over three hundred injured from the riot a few days earlier. Most complained of burns and bruises from shocksticks, while others were trampled upon.

Caitrin frowned. "I thought you just wanted to go home, anyway."

"Yeah," Maya said distractedly. "We probably should just sit tight and wait for Abbott to arrive. Then we can put all of this behind us."

"Right." Caitrin looked down into her cup, the red liquid swirling from her last sip. She could almost picture herself in the midst of such a vortex of chaos, riding the currents till the unavoidable end. She knew her life would soon be thrown back through the gauntlet, but the uneasiness that had plagued her before didn't take root. For once, in a very long time, Caitrin had her confidence back.

_If Abbott and the crew return to get us out of here, I have to disappear before or during the transit to_ Emissary. Caitrin looked up at Maya who was picking at her fingernails. Caitrin felt an invisible hand reach inward and tug on her heart, as she pondered never seeing Maya again. Their camaraderie had blossomed into friendship, and Caitrin had found a comfort that eased the emotional back hole Morcant's death had left. She would once again leave familiarity to venture into the unknown.

"Oh, I forgot." Maya stood up and retrieved a pill container from an upper cabinet above the sink. She tossed Caitrin the bottle. "Here. These should help get you back to normal. Doctor's orders."

Smiling, she read the label and popped two blue pills in her mouth, washing them down with more juice. "Thanks."

Maya remained standing and leaned back against the counter. "Uh-oh. You've got that sentimental look in your eyes."

Caitrin shrugged. "I'm just really glad I got to know you, Maya."

"No problem," she replied. A smile, along with a sense of vulnerability, crept onto Maya's face. "You're a sharp gal, Taryn. I hope we get more assignments together in the future."

A knock on the door caused both women to stiffen. Caitrin exchanged a worried glance with Maya. "Who could that be?" she whispered.

Maya shrugged. "Who is it?" she yelled.

A muffled voice from the other side of the door answered, "Palace Security. We have James Howell with us."

"Just a sec." Maya looked her roommate up and down. "Go throw some clothes on."

Slightly embarrassed to still be in her pajamas and robe in the late morning hours, Caitrin hurried off to her room and found her legs not giving her a problem any longer. _Thank God for that._ She quickly threw on something decent and returned to the kitchen area where Howell and Maya sat conversing over coffee. The table had been cleared off, and plates were replaced with a com-tablet and Howell's restless fingers silently thumping the wooden surface. "Sir," she acknowledged.

Howell nodded and shook her hand. "Officer Collin, good to see you functional." He waved to the vacant seat, then to Maya. "I'm sure Barros here has caught you up on the latest drama?"

Caitrin sat and sighed. "Yes, Sir. I'm sorry things happened the way they did."

Her commanding officer shook his head slowly. "No, I'm partly to blame on this one. I should have listened to both of you earlier, otherwise we could have prevented this pandemonium." He leaned in and lowered his voice. "Look, this situation is completely out of hand. Thorin told me earlier today that he transmitted a requested to the Colonial Administration Authority to send another delegation to help deal with the second round of talks."

"Quite ambitious of him," Maya muttered with arms folded across her chest.

He nodded. "Part of me thinks we need to warn the CAA about his actions here."

"Would they really take your word over his, Sir?" Caitrin asked. "I imagine he has them wrapped around his finger."

"The middle one, at that," Maya added.

A beep from the tablet rang out. Howell sighed. "I don't know, but all this talk might be for nothing." He reached out and touched the surface of the tablet and it emitted a soft click.

There was a sound of static, then a small, blurry image rose from the tablet's projector. A miniature Captain Abbott stood at attention. "Howell, this Abbott. The repairs to _Emissary_ are finalized, and we should make planet fall by this evening."

Howell perked up. "That's the first good news I've heard all day," he half chuckled.

Abbott's imaged wavered as he shifted his posture to a parade-rest. "What's the situation down there?"

"Tense, as always." The grim-faced man leaned back in his chair. "Since Thorin dismissed us, we're all confined to our quarters until you get here."

Abbott shook his head in disgust. "I hate that guy."

Caitrin almost snickered at the banter between the two seasoned officers. While they both knew their place in the operation, they both held the same level of contempt for corruptible politicians.

"Yeah," Howell continued, "and he's not slowing down. More CAA officials are being sent in."

"Great," he murmured sarcastically. The Captain ran a hand over his face. "Well, no sense in waiting; let's make the flight home as soon as we can."

"Agreed." James Howell rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll have my people organized so as soon as you touch down, we should be ready to head out within an hour."

Abbott nodded. "Sounds good."

Howell looked at both women seated at the table. "Do you two have any objections?"

Caitrin froze. _Of course I do, but I can't let you know that._

Maya placed her elbows on the table and cradled her mug. "While I know it's not the STSD's job to police the actions of some crazy politician, I understand we have little choice but to leave." She gave Caitrin a weak smile.

"I feel the same, Sir," Caitrin conceded.

"Thank you. And thank you, Captain. We'll be seeing you later tonight." Keying off the transmission, Howell quickly stood and tucked the com-tablet underneath his arm. "There you have it. Have your belongings packed and ready for an evening departure." He started to walk to the door, but he paused and half-turned around. "And do try to remain out of trouble." The door slid open before he was a few paces away to reveal the two armed guards that had escorted him.

When the door closed, Caitrin couldn't help but feel her commanding officer's last statement was an omen.

* * *

Caitrin Lann sealed her bag and hefted it to the entryway, only feeling the slightest dizziness accompanied with her medication. She dropped her larger bag beside Maya's belongings and laughed when she saw the ridiculous duster and oversize hat Maya had refused to depart without. Caitrin gave a wry smile when she contrasted the contents of their bags. Caitrin needed to be prepared to get away without much notice, so she wore her STSD uniform and inside her smaller, personal satchel were food rations, her M6B with three loaded magazines, a change of clothes, several glow-rods, and a compad loaded with the files Powelson had given her. She still wasn't sure when she could sneak away, but she figured it would happen when they grouped together at the landing zone.

She walked back into her room, gave it one last inspection, and shut the door. She glanced over to her roommate's door, but didn't bother checking in. Maya had decided to catch a late nap and had suggested to Caitrin that she do the same. "No doubt we'll be first on duty." Maya had said. "You know how Howell treats those that take the initiative: he gives them more so-called 'opportunity.'"

She returned to the kitchenette and poured herself a glass of water. She had avoided the stuff --being from a local source, it undoubtedly had bacteria that her immune system wasn't familiar with-- but was too thirsty to care. She took a drink and found the taste a little too salty for her liking. _Eh, I've had worse._

Before she could take another drink, there was a knock on the door. _Twice in one day? That must be Howell_. But when she opened the door, a stone-faced Palace Security guard stood with an assault rifle in hand. He turned 90 degrees to allow the sole individual behind him to enter. The person wore a dark cloak that completely covered any recognizable features. Caitrin fumbled for words, not sure what to say, but the guard merely closed the door and the faint sound of an external lock clicked.

"Who are you?" Caitrin asked, stepping backwards.

When the stranger responded, Caitrin was surprised and yet somehow expected the visitor. "You know who I am," Neil Yunker rumbled. He slowly pulled back the hood of his cloak, anger brewing behind bloodshot eyes. "And I know who _you_ are." He took another step forward. "I was a little shocked that ONI sent a green operative to handle such a delicate role."

"What?" Caitrin gasped. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play games with me, Miss Collin. You've been tailing me ever since I left New York."

"_What_? No, you've got mistaken for someone--"

His right hook was fast, connecting with her jaw before she even saw it coming. The blow knocked her back and she tripped over both piles of bags. Caitrin's head hit the floor and stars exploded before her eyes. Pain lanced around her head to meet her already sore mandible. But Yunker stayed with her through the fall, and his hands quickly wrapped around her neck. Lying on the ground and dazed, she could barely focus on resisting his firm grip. He flared his elbows out to block her weakened blows raining down on his arms.

Through her gasps for breath, she looked into Yunker's eyes and saw complete insanity. He clenched his teeth and hissed his words. "This is the last time one of you will get in my way!"

Caitrin winced at the burning in her lungs and mouthed, "please . . . stop!"

But whatever Yunker had as a conscience was somewhere far away. With one hand firmly place around her neck, he took his other hand and grabbed her collar. He pulled and ripped her uniform free of its buttons, exposing her sleeveless t-shirt underneath.

"No!" she croaked, though the volume was barely louder than a whisper.

The overwhelming fear for her life was replaced by anger. She wasn't about to let this perverted scum force himself on her. She relaxed her body, feigned exhaustion, and thought the weight of her assailant would indeed crush her. But just as she had hoped, Yunker let up and relaxed his grip on her throat, obviously wanting her to stay awake for his little domination show. He slapped her with an opened hand that turned her head to the side.

With her vision slightly blurred, she saw her compad that had fallen out of her bag. It was barely within reach.

Yunker leaned forward and started giving her sloppy kisses to her bruised left cheek. He snarled at her. "I'm going to enjoy this," he whispered in her ear.

"Me too."

That brought a sardonic smile to Yunker's face.

Caitrin mimicked his smile. Summoning all her strength, she brought her right knee up into his groin. The blow knocked the wind out of the bulky man, but Caitrin pressed her attack. She quickly grabbed the compad and struck the side of Yunker's head with its flat end. The electronic device shattered on impact, but did manage to briefly daze the man. His body drifted to Caitrin's left, and using his bleeding temple as a target, she brought her left elbow up and struck Yunker's head to send him to the ground. She rolled onto her right side and tried to stand, but dizziness kept her on her hands and knees.

"Taryn!"

Caitrin looked up to see Maya in her room's doorway, wearing a shocked and worried expression. Once Maya's eyes found Yunker starting to get up, she analyzed the situation, secured her robe around her waist, and tugged her sleeves up her forearms, ready to continued the beating Caitrin had started.

"Guards!" Yunker yelped. He found a nearby chair and pulled himself up to rest on his knees. Within a second, a half squad of Palace Security guards filled the room, taking a position behind the Ambassador's aide. One guard bent down to help Yunker to his feet, but he shook the armed man away. "Arrest her. This woman attacked me!" he bit out, holding the left side of his head and bending uncomfortably at the waist.

Maya was at Caitrin's side in an instant, examining her wounds and torn uniform. The older Hispanic woman steadied Caitrin underneath her right shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Caitrin kept breathing hard, but was able to answer loudly for everyone to hear. "He attacked _me_. Unprovoked and . . ." The pain in her jaw returned as the adrenaline coursing through her subsided. She cringed at the agony.

Another group entered their quarters: Howell, flanked by his own set of Palace Security. "What's going on?" He caught sight of Caitrin and his eyes grew wide.

Still breathing hard, Yunker smoothed his hair over to reveal the bloody spot on his scalp. "One of your employees assaulted me."

Anger brewed like bile in Caitrin's throat. "I was defending myself!"

Maya looked up at Howell. "Sir, you know Taryn's right," she pleaded.

One of the liveried men stepped forward; the collar and cuffs of his uniform colored red signified him as the commanding officer. "Regardless, you will be placed in confinement until this matter has been thoroughly investigated."

"_What_?!" all three STSD employees blurted.

The commander waved two of his men over to Caitrin. "We are a nation of laws." He turned to Yunker, who had gotten himself under control, and smiled. "Besides, I'm more apt to take the word of Mr. Yunker than the word of some half-witted, off-world sentry."

Howell shoved his way through the semicircle of guards to confront the commander. "You can't do this." He pointed to the com-tablet in his hands. "We are scheduled to depart in half an hour!"

"That's not my problem." The commander motioned with his weapon and the two guards secured Caitrin's hands behind her back with binders and steered her towards the doorway.

Confusion contorted Caitrin's face as she stumbled forward. "Wait! Howell, _do_ something."

Maya stood on her toes and called out, "We won't leave you, Taryn."

With that final exchange, Maya's words reverberated in Caitrin's numb ears. _My parents had made that promise. Morcant made that promise_. There was little doubt in Caitrin's mind that Maya would repeat the cycle.

Tears further blurred her vision, as she was dragged out into the hallway, the argument in the room continuing.

_Only this time, it will be my turn to fail. _


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The subterranean detention hall reeked of mildew and mold as Caitrin was led down the cold, dark corridor. The two guards holding her arms had not slackened their grip, leaving her skin burning underneath a torn, open uniform. Her jaw still ached, and her face was still sore from Yunker's slap. A few glowpanels flickered overhead, temporarily lighting the path at random intervals. In walking for what seemed like an hour, Caitrin couldn't calculate just how far below the Palace they were. _If we go any farther, we'll end up on the other side of the planet_. Her voice sounded hollow in her mind, surprised that she could make light of such dour circumstances. She searched the source of such rouge thoughts but failed to place its origin.

The guard on Caitrin's left grunted in frustration. "Is this really necessary, Davis? We could have thrown her in with the regulars up on Sub-A."

You know, it's stupid questions like that . . . " the guard on her right grumbled.

"What?"

"Clark, if you think the commander wanted her there, he would have told us."

Clark mulled over that for a second. "But what's so special about _this_off-worlder?"

Davis shook his head. "Doesn't matter to me. We get paid for _doing_ the dirty work, not _talking_ about it."

"Yeah, but what if she's telling the truth?" Clark asked with an uncomfortable casualness.

"Stow it," Davis ordered, his hissed remark echoing down the corridor.

Knowing her comments would be ignored or otherwise met with a physical rebuttal, Caitrin remained silent.

The three of them walked in relative silence for another hundred paces before coming to a stop at the end of the corridor.

"This one," Davis pointed out.

Caitrin looked up from the ground to see a faintly lit cell with a tattered cot off to the right. A small sink and hole in the ground were the only other furnishings she could see.

"Cozy," Clark commented sarcastically.

They roughly tossed her forward, the abruptness and momentum pitching her to land on her hands and knees. Caitrin quickly turned over, shielding herself with a raised right hand, but the two guards just stood in the open doorway, laughing at her reaction.

Clark gave a voracious smile and took a step forward, but a firm hand to his chest halted his progress. "Hey, Davis, c'mon," Clark begged.

"Later. We still have to get back to our posts before anyone notices how long we've been gone." Davis dismissed Caitrin with a wave of his hand. "Besides, she isn't going anywhere." He turned on his heal.

Clark pointed a finger at Caitrin. "I'll be back for you," he murmured.

"Let's go!" Davis belted out.

Clark took a step backward, and reached out to his left to an archaic keypad. "Sleep tight." He pressed the panel and six glowing beams of energy descended from the upper portion of the doorway, measuring five centimeters in diameter and evenly spaced apart. Clark chortled to himself and caught up with Davis.

Shivering, Caitrin pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them. She sat starring at the bluish glow before her and marveled. Like the energy shields the Palace security guards had used the day of the riot, the prison bars seemed familiar enough to be associated as incorporating the same technology. She had never seen such control over energy fields, and the fact that the Andvarians had mastered it caused her to shiver again.

She reached her right hand out to the beams and found faint warmth radiating off of them. She searched the ground for loosened stone and found a tiny rock half the size of her palm. Caitrin backed away and sat on the edge of the cot. She tossed the rock at the center beam and was rewarded with a spark and a returned charred mass.

Caitrin attentively reexamined her surroundings. The walls and ceiling had a hexagonal pattern and felt like ceramic tile. The floor was almost earthen, but was flat enough that Caitrin imagined it was once durable and intact. What Caitrin had mistaken for a sink was just a bowl with a single tap that had no means to turn it on. Frowning, she closed the distance to the "sink" and placed her hands underneath the spout. With a sputtered cough, warm water poured forth. Cupping it in her hands she lowered her head to get a good sniff. The pungent scent of sulfur tickled the back of her throat, and she reeled her head away. She watched the water fill the white bowl and was shocked to see clear liquid. In the cool air of her confinement cell, the warm water, despite its smell, was welcomed. While Caitrin wasn't about to drink the stuff, she did splash some on her face. She winced as the water made contact with the abrasion on her cheek. She took a sleeve of her uniform and gently patted away the wetness.

Sighing to herself, she pulled off her outermost garment. The cold air immediately sent chills up and down her arms, so she pulled the cot closer to the energy beams for the warmth they emitted. She spread her uniform top over the cot and inspected Yunker's handiwork. The top four buttons were torn away, leaving a triangular flap to fall over the left chest pocket and giving any creep an ample view of skin-- had she not chosen to wear a sleeveless cotton t-shirt underneath. She reached a hand up to her throat and felt four scratch marks that started on her right collarbone and stopped diagonally after a few centimeters. Caitrin's nose wrinkled in disgust over the struggle she had with Yunker. While she was glad she had fought him off and refused to quit, the emotional trauma of almost being made a pleasure toy for his sick game weighed down on her, compressing her surroundings even more.

_But you made it_, she told herself. She doubted the image of Yunker's crazed face would ever be fully erased from her memory, but the fact that he had not won would certainly lessen the impact. _Thank God Maya was there_. Caitrin's shoulders slumped and she proceeded to put her jacket back on. Caitrin highly doubted Maya or Howell could really do much of anything to help her now. If Andvari laws were anything like the Boundaries of Limitations they had back on Earth, then the jurisdictional codes would keep her here as an enemy of the state.

The sole glowpanel overhead flickered out of existence, leaving the restraining beams to provide a soft glimmering. Stifling a yawn, Caitrin realized it was probably past midnight, and the last few hours had drained her of energy. Pulling her jacket tight around her, she rested on the cot, arranging herself in the fetal position. _Might as well try to get some sleep_.

Closing her eyes, she prayed that no nightmares would come.

* * *

The sound of footsteps found her ears and Caitrin's eyes slowly opened. She was still in the same pose, facing away from the doorway, and Caitrin could tell she hadn't been sleeping all that long. Her muscles and spine were not aching from the cot's hard surface, nor were her eyes crusted over with mucus. Then her mind caught up to her senses. _Clark_. She was expecting the guard to return at some point, but not this early.

As quietly as she could, Caitrin rolled onto the cold ground and found a piece of loose stone twice as large as before. She cupped it in her right hand and crawled over to the forward wall, her body a few centimeters away from the glowing beams of energy. With her back against the wall, she listened to the footsteps growing louder. _This time, I'm ready_. She tightened her grip on the rock.

Then the footsteps faltered. Caitrin frowned. An incoherent voice whispered something, and Caitrin knew there were two people coming for her. _Great_. The glowing bars retracted into the upper portion of the doorway. Caitrin's muscles tensed as she prepared to spring into action.

"Miss Collin?"

Caitrin froze. _That voice. It sounds familiar_.

"Miss Collin, are you okay? Are you injured?"

Still holding her impromptu weapon, Caitrin leaned to her side to peer out the doorway. There stood a tall woman, this time in much more casual clothing, with a youthful male at her side. "Administrator Mahlon, what are you doing here?" Caitrin asked in disbelief, stepping out to square her shoulders with Mahlon.

Naomi Mahlon looked Caitrin up and down, and a concerned look furrowed her brow. "Are you injured, Miss Collin?" she asked again.

Caitrin shrugged uneasily. "I'll be fine, once I get out of here." She frowned. "How did you know I was here?"

"We will tell you everything," she quickly looked behind her, back down the corridor, "but for now, we must hurry." Naomi motioned to the male on her right. "This is my son, Killian. He will see to your safety."

Killian reached out and grabbed Caitrin's hand. "Come, Miss Collin. The guards will not be far behind." He gave a gentle tug, but Caitrin remained still.

"What is going on, Administrator?" she implored, as she finally allowed Killian to pull her out into the corridor. "Why would you do this for me?"

"I know you are innocent of the charges, anyone not under the Loyalists' payroll could see that." Naomi opened her mouth to say more, but a clattering of distant footsteps stopped her. "We must go, _now_."

Caitrin nodded and followed her two rescuers back the way they had come. Caitrin noticed Killian and Naomi barely made a sound while keeping a fast pace, so she did her best to match their stealth. The boy kept a firm grip on Caitrin's hand, and she stumble when he took a sharp left turn.

"This way," he whispered, as they entered a small chamber that branched off the main corridor.

She squinted in the darkness, searching for an endpoint, but found nothing on which to focus. Naomi stepped past her and started placing her hands along the hexagonal-patterned walls. Caitrin could barely see Killian doing the same thing at a lower spot to the left. "Can I help?"

Neither of them responded, nor did they need to; Killian's hand finally found the disguised panel. A soft, low rumble came from the wall that ran parallel to the length of the corridor, and a section flickered with pseudo-motion to reveal an arched tunnel. Warm air rushed out from the opening, and Killian backed away. His face contorted into a look of repulsion.

"What?" Caitrin asked, only to get her answer a second later. The gush of air stung her senses, and she recognized it as the same sulfuric scent of the water in her cell.

"Go, quickly," Killian implored.

Naomi ducked down and motioned for Caitrin to follow her. Bending at the waist to avoid being smacked in the head, Caitrin entered the hidden passageway. Even before Caitrin was two steps in, Killian was behind her, watching the tunnel's entrance opaque back to the geometric shapes it once held. As it changed, the tunnel was plunged into darkness, and Caitrin suppressed a gasp.

The muffled sounds of footsteps could be heard, and Caitrin held her breath. She lowered herself into a squat and placed a hand on the ground to maintain her balance. The floor was surprisingly smooth, but unlike tile, it gave a few centimeters under prolonged weight, acting as cushion. By now her eyes had adjusted to the darkness and she could begin to make out the trace lines of the walls and ceiling. The arched entrance was roughly a third of the height of the tunnel, and Caitrin could stand if she really wanted to. The footsteps picked up in pace, a verbal exchange took place, and then the guards were past, presumably running back to tell their commander of the escaped prisoner.

"Alright, they're gone," Killian said finally. He brushed past Caitrin and took the lead again. Removing a glowrod from his back pocket, he flicked it on. He held the glowrod up above his head, and the bluish light played haunting shadows over his facial features. "Let's go." He turned to head farther down the tunnel, but not before Caitrin got her first real look at the Administrator's son. Even in the blue hue, Caitrin could tell he shared her same light complexion, though his hair color was a dirty blond. His blue eyes matched his mother's in both shape and color.

As they walked, Caitrin noticed the walls held on to the afterglow of Killian's light, creating a shimmering honeycomb effect that faded slowly. _More unknown tidbits for me to ask about later_, she conceded.

Naomi must have caught the confusion on her face. "Are you all right, Miss Collin?" she asked.

"Hmm? Oh, no I'm fine, really." Caitrin reached out and felt the glowing surface with her fingertips. "This place just seems . . . completely unique. First, I see Palace Security using an energy shield I've never seen before. Then the energy bars that kept me in my cell. Now this . . ."

Naomi smiled in response, but the corners of her eyes wrinkled, leaving a disconcerting undertone. "Andvari is unique in many ways." She paused for a moment, considering her words. "Some more unique than others."

Before Caitrin could ask for clarification, Killian came to a stop at a cross section with another tunnel. Caitrin felt Naomi's warm hand grasp her own. "This is where we must part, Miss Collin," Naomi said apologetically. "If I am gone for too long they will suspect me of aiding you."

"I understand," Caitrin replied. "What happens now?"

"Killian will lead you out into the woodlands. From there . . ." Naomi's brows met together in concentration, her head dipped down to look at their joined hands. "May I ask something of you?"

Caitrin nodded solemnly. "I am in your debt. You just gave me my freedom."

Naomi lifted her head, and her eyes blazed into Caitrin's with intensity. "Then I ask the same of you. I am a prisoner here, Miss Collin. A prisoner of politics." She visibly swallowed. "A prisoner of this Palace."

"Mother, you must hurry, please," her son urged, nervously looking down the four different directions.

"Killian will take you to someone that can help place you on the right path." Naomi took both of Caitrin's hands in hers. "Will you help us?"

Waves of conflicting thoughts ran through Caitrin's mind, and she tried her best to not let her face reveal them. Confusion rose up at first, as she tried to piece the mystery of the Administrator's statements together. Outright refusal replaced it, when she thought of her lack of skill in the political arena. Pity came, given Naomi's said predicament. And then something clicked in her brain. "Who is this person that can help me?"

Naomi smiled. "An old friend and patriot of Andvari. Donagh." She inclined her head. "Will you help?"

Catrin felt her pulse quicken and warmth flood through her veins. She highly doubted Morcant could have led her to Naomi, but the Administrator was a direct link to her husband's ally. "Yes, I'll do it," she said with a quivering voice. _This is it. This is my chance_. Relief, excitement, and anxiousness sought to overwhelm her, but she quelled her emotions with a deep breath.

Naomi pulled Caitrin in for a quick but firm embrace. "Good luck," she whispered. Naomi took a step back and gathered her long coat's sash tighter around her waist. "I must go now, as should you."

"Thank you, Administrator Mahlon," Caitrin said with tightness in her throat.

Killian's hand touched Caitrin's elbow. "Come now, Miss Collin."

Caitrin turned to go, but kept her eyes on Naomi's departing wave. After a few seconds, the Administrator disappeared down the opposite way of the tunnel.

* * *

Extinguishing the glowrod, Killian pushed open the circular hatch of their escape route. The temporary darkness was quickly replaced with the natural light from the waxing moon up above, and Caitrin stepped out on the forest's leaf-covered ground. The air was thick with fog, and the moonlight did an adequate job of illuminating the mist. Killian closed the hatch and surveyed the area with watchful eyes.

Caitrin gave him a curious look. "Everything okay?" she asked quietly.

"Oh, yes. Sorry, I was . . . " he shook his head. "Forgive me, it has been a long time since I've accessed these tunnels."

"How long?"

"Years." Killian ran a hand through his hair. He pointed off to the right and Caitrin could make out the faint outlines of a rectangular shaped building no larger than an equipment shed. "When I was a child I was friends with the previous Administrator's daughter," he continued as they walked over broken branches and leaves. He let out a short laugh. "We used to pay hide-and-seek together in the Palace. She was always better than me, but one day we stumbled upon the tunnel system that ran through the entire Palace."

"And what about this place?" They took the three stone steps up to the dilapidated building and Killian pushed the creaking door open. He turned a single yellow light on with a flick of a wall switch, and Caitrin felt her jaw drop when she stepped through the doorway. The exterior of the shack was built to hide the pristine, modern setup inside. The walls and ceiling were an antiseptic white and the floor looked like pleated black rubber. One corner was a dedicated refresher station, with a shower and sink. The others held a small generator, a food heating plate, and a cabinet with unknown contents.

"I finished putting this place together a couple months ago. Right when things started to get weird." Killian walked over to the generator and activated it. "I have to rig up this generator to charge the battery power supply, though." A small vibration ripped the floorboards underneath their feet, but otherwise the generator was silent. He pointed to the cabinet and the heating plate. "There's some food in here and you can use the plate to warm it up." He motioned to the shower and sink with a lift of his chin. "The water will be warm in a couple minutes, if you'd like to clean up."

Remembering her most recent experience with Andvari plumbing, she raised an eyebrow. "Will it smell like crap?"

"What? Oh. No, it won't," Killian assured her. "There's also a change of clothes in the bottom drawer. They might be a bit small for you, but you really shouldn't be wearing that uniform anymore."

Caitrin looked down at her sweat-stained clothing. "Yeah, good idea." She raised her head and found Killian staring at her. "So . . ."

The younger man closed his eyes and shook his head distractedly. "I'm sorry. I'll leave you be." He brushed past her and closed the door behind him.

"Thanks," Caitrin said through the door. She suppressed a giggle. Through all of his "tough guy" attitude, Killian was still a teenage boy. "I'll come out when I'm ready."

"Okay," came his muffled reply.

Given the hurried importance of meeting with Donagh, Caitrin thought about simply washing her face and changing clothes. But being on the run in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people, she supposed it would we wise to clean up while she had the chance. She started the water, grabbed one of the food packets, and waited for both to heat up. By the time her meal was ready the shower water was hot. She took off her uniform and took a bite of food with every article she removed. She left the remaining third of her meal till after her shower, and she stepped into the soothing warmth of the water. Caitrin sighed as tight muscles in her neck and back relaxed under the hot water. Whatever reservoir Killian had rigged up for his little hut, it wasn't very large, and Caitrin found her warm, watery relief quickly turn colder. _Just as well. I'd probably stay under that tap for an hour, if I could_.

She retrieved a long, harsh towel from the cupboard under the sink and quickly dried off. She took the rest of her meal in two large bites and removed a stack of clothes that were neatly piled in the bottom drawer. A few shirts and pants that one would wear to an extravagant party were on top, but Caitrin did find a black jumpsuit like the one Maya had worn the other night. She shook her head and got dressed.

Two minutes later, she opened the door and found Killian slouched on the second step with his arms folded across his chest. "I'm ready."

He jerked his head up and quickly stood, using his hands to maintain his balance on the railing. "All set?" he asked, doing his best to shake off his tiredness.

Caitrin nodded and smiled. She found his lack of recovery amusing but understandable. _After all, it is well past midnight_. "Are you going to eat anything?"

"Nah, I'll be fine." They exchanged places so Killian could step back inside. He turned off the generator, then the light, and they were once again off into the moonlit forest.

"Let's go meet Donagh."


	13. Chapter 12

_[please let me know if this chapter makes sense, or if you even understand what's going. i have a feeling i may have totally lost some.]_

Chapter 12

They had acquired an old utility vehicle that the city had long since abandoned due to its condition and ventured down winding dirt roads. Killian seemed adept at driving the truck, but Caitrin still held on tight when he took a turn a little too fast. He would apologize with every large bump or sharp veering, and she smiled at each exchange. He was in his late teens— Caitrin couldn't tell for sure his exact age— but his face wore a constant stern expression, making him appear older and more mature.

The utility vehicle dipped when a crater on the road came too quickly for Killian to react, and a massive vibration rippled through the chassis. "Sorry," he apologized.

Caitrin laughed politely. "It's okay." She looked over at Killian to find him blushing. She waited for the awkward moment to pass, then took on a more serious tone. "So," she started, "what was your mom talking about when she said she was a prisoner in the Palace?"

Killian's lip twitched. "There's a lot wrong with Andvari right now, even though you wouldn't be able to tell by the news broadcasts." He sighed. "I don't know a lot about politics, but I guess when my mom got elected, the Governor's and Rep's pretty much told her what to say and do."

"Really?" Caitrin asked carefully.

A smile crept onto his face. "But my mom can get pretty worked up about that stuff." Killian's expression smoothed to impassive. "She told them she would inform the Andvarians of the corruption, but . . ." He trailed off and worked his jaw for a moment. The truck hit another pothole, but Killian remained wordless.

Caitrin tilted her head down. "You don't have to—"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "It's just that . . . there's a lot that happened with my mother. I could barely understand what was going on, let alone be able to explain it properly." He took one hand off the wheel and rubbed one eye at a time. In the dark interior of the truck, Caitrin couldn't tell if he was wiping away sleepiness or tears. "In short," he continued with obvious strain in his voice, "my mom is a puppet ruler."

Nodding her head, Caitrin reached out and gently grabbed his shoulder. Whether her gesture distracted him or if he was avoiding another road hazard, the utility vehicle swerved to the left. She braced herself by pressing her right arm against the dash. "And if you get us to Donagh in one piece, I'll do what I can to get all this sorted out," she said playfully. Still leaning slightly forward, she gave his shoulder a squeeze and folded her arms across her chest. "Deal?"

Killian's laugh sounded like a mix between nervousness and joy. "It's a deal."

She leaned back in the worn bench seat and decided against asking the teenager any more questions. She was tempted to close her eyes, but the bumpy ride assured her she would not find any slumber. Instead, she craned her neck out the opened passenger window, letting the cool evening breeze be as effective at keeping her awake as a splash of cold water. She looked up into the night sky through the treetops, and gazed at the stars above. _I am a long way from home,_ she admitted to herself_. But at least now I know where I'm going._

* * *

After an hour of rough driving, they came to a stop in a clearing nestled up against a mossy cliff face. Killian got out first and held up a hand, informing Caitrin to stay in the vehicle. The headlights illuminated his lower half, and then he walked past the beams, vanishing in the dark. Caitrin unbuckled her seat belt and eagerly waited.

He returned after a few moments. "Okay, follow me." Killian took out his glowrod and the two headed to the right.

With clammy hands and a racing heart, Caitrin followed. Each crunching step sounded like muffled explosions to her dazed ears. Something just wasn't sitting right in her gut, but she couldn't place it.

After several dozen paces, Killian came to a stop at the cliff wall. He waved the glowrod's beam across a narrow opening in the rocks. "In there." He handed Caitrin the glowrod. "I can go no farther," he added gravely.

Frowning, she asked, "why?"

"What Donagh tells you are for your ears alone."

She turned the glowrod over in her hands, wondering why she felt uneasy. "You'll be right here if I need anything, right?"

He nodded silently.

Taking a deep breath, Caitrin squeezed through the crevice. The walls on either side of her expanded the farther she walked, and Caitrin quickly found herself in a dome-shaped room. The circular walls and floor matched the same materials as the tunnel system they had used to escape the Palace. There were no objects in the room, save for a small, glowing plate in the center that was providing the only illumination, besides her glowrod. Caitrin flicked her handheld light off and placed it in one of the many pockets her jumpsuit offered.

"Donagh?" she said quietly. A thud from behind caused her to spin around and strike a defensive stance— but there was nothing but a hexagonal-patterned surface. She swallowed when she realized her only route out of the chamber had been sealed, vanishing in the geometric shapes. Her muscles tensed.

"There's no need to be afraid," a soft, male voice soothed from the center of the room.

Caitrin slowly turned around, her eyes wide with anticipation and fear.

Glimmering up from the central plate, a fuzzy, shifting hologram burned to life. In stuttered bluish hues, it would sporadically take the rough shape of a man standing with arms behind his back, but the image would only stabilize for a fraction of a second before it was lost to a mess of white noise pixels. It reminded Caitrin of when news reports from far away colonies were filtered through too many compression transmitters, causing the static to overwhelm the onsite reporter. At first she shielded her eyes from the brightness, but the holoform soon dimmed, making it easier for her to view the seizure-inducing image.

"Donagh?" she inquired again.

"I am he," Donagh responded. Through the haze of static, his head tilted slightly to the side. "What is it you seek?" he asked without preamble. His voice was oddly accented, and she couldn't put an ethnicity to it.

"Well, I . . ." For a moment, Caitrin was at a loss for words. _What do I seek? I want to know what happened to Morcant, but I didn't even know his alias here_. _He could have been under any identity at the time_. She sighed. Of all her trouble coming to Andvari and finally meeting Donagh, she was at a loss for words. The only sound in the chamber was a low-level hum, and then finally, Caitrin found her voice. "I'm looking for someone," she said hesitantly, her words coming with odd difficulty. "Someone that told me to find you."

"Oh?" Donagh stated. The blurry figure shifted his weight to his right leg. "And who are you?" he asked, his tone somewhere between a challenge and questionable kindness.

Caitrin took a deep breath and braced herself. "My name is Caitrin Lann." Even as she announced those words she felt uneasy about revealing her true identity. But if Morcant wanted her to contact Donagh, the truth had to start somewhere. "My husband, Morcant Lann, told me to seek you out."

The holoform flickered red and yellow several times, then Donagh brought his head up, taking his time to respond. "Yes, I know of whom you speak, but not by that name." Donagh turned his head slightly to the left. "He and I were . . . acquainted."

_Acquainted?_ Caitrin shook her head. "So you know what happened to him?" she asked in a spilling out of words. "Please, tell me." She did her best not to sound like she was begging, but Caitrin figured it didn't really matter at this point.

The hazy image seemed to freeze for a moment, but Donagh just might have been perfectly still. "He went by the name of David Longrad, but for your sake, I'll call him Morcant." Donagh took a deep breath, as if he was preparing for a long recitation of a story, and let it out slowly. "Morcant was on an ONI infiltration team, seeking to gather intel to supplant dissident factions in the government. Rumors of his team were rampant at the time, so I sought him out." He paused reflectively. "He was a kind, gentle man, but also determined and very leery of hearing me out." Donagh shifted his weight again and craned his neck forward. "Tell me, has Administrator Mahlon told you of her plight?"

"Briefly," she managed to squeak out between bated breaths. So far, everything was making sense to Caitrin.

Donagh pulled his head back. "What you may not know is that Andvari is in a three-way power struggle."

Caitrin gave him a puzzled look, but he went on to explain.

"The Loyalist want the planet to fall under the jurisdiction of the UNSC, while the Patriots— as they like to call themselves— are mostly made up of native Andvarians that seek independence in full." The holo-image flashed off for a brief few seconds before returning to its standard blurry state. "The third group," he paused, probably for a dramatic effect, "is the Colonial Liberation Force."

She frowned. "I've never heard of them before."

"They are Insurrectionists; _real_ Insurrectionists. Secretive and illusive, trained and covert, they have been infecting almost ever aspect of Andvari life for the last few decades. The CLF have successfully infiltrated the Andvarian government and have been in control for some time now. While the Patriot Party _did_ win the planet's freedom, it was the CLF that quickly propped up the infrastructure necessary to sustain the colony; they were the ones that pushed for the militarization of Andvari." Donagh sighed. "Naomi is being controlled by true Insurrectionists."

All these acronyms were starting to make her head ache, but as Donagh continued his explanation, everything began to make sense to Caitrin. All along, Maya had held suspicions about the locals, and to a certain extent, she was right. These Innies were unique in that they were using subterfuge rather than brute force and outright defiance. Caitrin could see that the former worked in ways the later could never do. "So did Morcant's team uncover this fact?" she asked.

"Partially. I knew his entire squad wouldn't blindly follow one . . . such as me, but I was able to make contact with Morcant separately. The rest of his team and even his own commander vehemently refused to believe the Patriot Party were _not_ Insurrectionists." Donagh lifted his chin. "As far as this sector's Office of Naval Intelligence is concerned, Andvari is ripe for a UNSC military takeover."

Shaking her head, Caitrin looked around for someplace to sit and reluctantly sat cross-legged on the floor of the chamber. All of this information was coming so fast and she hoped it would all process into some semblance. "Wait, so how do you know what the local ONI spooks know?"

If Donagh was perturbed by Caitrin's casual manner, he didn't show it. "There are things about me that best remain surreptitious. I have my . . . connections." He shrugged. "Just know that Morcant trusted me," he said quietly.

She pondered that for a moment. Caitrin still had an itch in the back of her mind that made her skeptical of Donagh. _What if he duped Morcant?_ She dismissed the thought immediately, knowing her husband wouldn't fall for such cheap tricks. She recalled the message he left her and another puzzle piece fit awkwardly into place. "Okay," she started, "I know that Morcant approached his commander with these facts, but what happened to him after that?" Deep inside, various emotions began to swirl about, and preemptive tears began to form in her eyes as she prepared herself.

Donagh froze again, this time flickering in shades of orange and violet. "This may be difficult."

"Donagh, please," Caitrin pleaded, blinking back tears.

Donagh's sign came as a puff of static. "He was captured by the Colonial Liberation Force," he said somberly.

Letting her hands fall limply into her lap, her back suddenly tensed with the bewildering news. Confusion furrowed her brow, and she stiffened for more jarring. "Is he . . ." her voice cracked with tiredness, "is he still alive?" She wiped her tear-dripping nose with a roll of her shoulder.

Donagh shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I cannot confirm that."

Caitrin slammed her fist down on the floor. "You don't know?!"

"Your anger is understandable," he quickly soothed. "But the Insurrectionists have hidden him away somewhere beyond my tracking capabilities. I _do_ know he has not left the planet."

Caitrin gathered herself and slowly stood. "Do you at least have his last known whereabouts?"

"I do, however the data would be irrelevant. Given the time period—"

"I'll decide if it's irrelevant," Caitrin bit out. "Tell me," she said through clenched teeth.

His postured told Caitrin he was put aback by the forcefulness in her words. "Twenty-two kilometers, fifteen meters, due Northwest," he said in monotone.

"That close?"

"Yes, now if you are finished with this line of inquiry, would you like to discuss Naomi Mahlon's predicament?" Donagh asked.

Frowning, Caitrin shook her head. "What?" _What could be more important than finding Morcant?_

"Surely, Killian told you the reason for bringing you here," Donagh replied, sounding momentarily puzzled. "Well, at least our earlier discussion will bring you up to speed on the matter." Through the hazy visual static, it looked like Donagh had raised an eyebrow. "And in helping the Administrator, you could also help yourself."

Caitrin held her hand up. "Okay, you need to spell this out for me." Her mind was still spinning with the idea that Morcant could very well be alive.

Nodding once, Donagh began to explain things. "To maintain order on Andvari, the CLF need to be exposed and removed. With their hold on the Administrator and with them circumventing the Colonial Administration Authority's negotiations, the Insurrectionists will undoubtedly take the planet in a few swift moves."

"So that's why Ambassador Thorin wanted the security team gone. He doesn't want any witnesses to see his underhandedness," Caitrin deduced. _And there's no doubt he's working for his relative, Samuel Thorin. They're_ all _with the CLF._

He nodded and shifted his weight again. "I have reason to believe your husband has been interrogated and is currently being held captive. By freeing him, Morcant can notify the Office of Naval Intelligence. They'll have no choice but to believe him. He knows the truth, and if I can supplement him with valuable information on the CLF, his superiors can finally see the real threat."

Caitrin rubbed the side of her face thoughtfully. "Donagh, I doubt ONI will greet him with open arms, regardless of the intel he may possess. He's already been threatened with a court-martial by Colonel Ross, so what would make Morcant's commanding officer change his mind?"

The image shifted to a green hue for a good five seconds. Then, with a playful, almost sinister laugh, Donagh's shoulders bobbed up and down twice. "I'm holding the ultimate wildcard." The holofrom turned back to its usual blue. "Trust me; they will listen."

A cold chill ran up her spine, and suddenly, Caitrin felt very uncomfortable in the small, domed room. She worked her jaw for a moment to stall a reply. _I can deal with whatever he's talking about _after _I find Morcant_.

Donagh sighed. "The other option would be a very drawn out campaign against the CLF, and I doubt the Administrator— or Andvari, for that matter— can hold out much longer."

Caitrin looked down at her opened hands and sniffed away the last streak of tears. _In other words, it would take an army and a couple hundred intelligence specialists to break the Insurrectionists on their home turf. On the other hand, finding Morcant alive . . ._ Of all her fears and worries of the past few months, Caitrin never would have expected to be searching for her husband, _alive_. Whatever means necessary, she swore to herself that she would find him. "So, where do we begin?" she asked as she brought her head up.

The fuzzy image stabilized long enough for Donagh to appear folding his arms across his chest. "As I was saying before: given the time period of Morcant's last know whereabouts, I suspect a pattern in the movements. The CLF has been snatching people at random, but I've been able to track those captured up until the time they disappear. The locations shift regularly, but if we triangulate the coordinates we find an underground—"

Internally, Caitrin sighed. Donagh knew where to find Morcant, but what the glitching figure before her wanted was a loyal minion. _Fine. If it gets me closer to my husband, I'll play._ Caitrin held up a hand to halt his explanation. "Easy there. Just tell me where we need to go."

Donagh nodded once. "The tunnel systems they use are disconnected to the Palace, but the points of last contact create an interesting, circular pattern." A topical grid-patterned map of Milanó and its outlying areas replaced his holoform. While Donagh's image was blurred and shifty, the map was clear and precise. Rod dots pulsed into existence, outlining the circumference of the Northern Forest, and a curved, dotted line connected them, creating a half-circle of red. Segmented perfectly, Caitrin noticed a gap in the lower third of the arch, and a green dot soon glowed to life in its place. "Here is where a likely point of entry will be," Donagh's voice resounded. "I can't guarantee it will be open, but there is a possibility it has yet to be used by the CLF."

"So that's where we'll start," Caitrin finished for him.

His holofom returned to its blurred self in the center of the room. "Killian has all the pertinent information on a compad."

Her mouth shot open. "He's coming with us?"

"He is coming with _you_," Donagh corrected. "_I_ will monitor your progress and feed you the necessary information as it comes in."

"So you won't come with us?" The thought of Donagh sending her off to do his bidding was now in the forefront of her mind.

He tilted his head to the side. "It is not that I won't, I can't. At least, not now." He straightened back up. "But you two will not be alone. There is another that has been called upon. One that knows what is at stake."

"Taryn?"

Caitrin spun around to find Maya Barros standing in the passageway door, her face brightening up with every passing second of silence. "Maya?" Caitrin wanted to run and hug her newly found friend, but the fact that Maya had found Caitrin here, meeting with Donagh, gave her a cautious pause. "What are you doing here?"

Maya waved at the holo image before them. "Donagh contacted me," she said. "I . . ." she trailed off and took a step closer to Caitrin. "I'm sorry, but I have not been entirely honest with you." She reached out and took Caitrin's hands in hers. "I'm with the Office of Naval Intelligence."

"What?" Caitrin blurted out.

Maya winced but continued. "I was tasked with picking up where our last infiltration team left off. Their identities had been compromised, and I had to remain undercover till I could slip away." She gave a lopsided grin. "And remaining here to help in your defense was enough to convince Abbott and Howell to let me stay." She gave Caitrin's hands a reassuring squeeze. "I'm flying solo on this mission, and the only thing Section Three had going for them was a hunch and a single name: Donagh." Maya smiled and clutched her tightly. "So I was surprised when he contacted me shortly after you were taken away. He has caught me up to speed with all that's going on."

Caitrin returned the hug, and then pulled back to arm's length. "Small world." She swallowed past a lump in her throat, one formed by too many changes in too little time. "ONI? Really?" she asked, not fully believing it.

"I'm sorry for my deception, but it was necessary to protect us both." Maya shrugged. "Same reason I can't tell you my real name."

Caitrin snorted. "I'm really here to find my husband, Morcant," She admitted. Caitrin looked down, then raise her eyes to meet Maya's. "And my name is not Taryn Collin. I'm Caitrin Lann."

Maya just smiled even wider. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Lann." She craned her neck forward. "Shall we go find your husband?"

Caitrin pulled Maya in for another hug. "Gladly."

_[again, please let me know if this chapter makes sense, or if you even understand what's going. i have a feeling i may have totally lost some.]_


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

After a solid five hours of sleep, Caitrin awoke to the rich smell of coffee. Maya handed her a steaming mug and took a sip from her own. "Thanks," Caitrin said, taking the offering with a bowed head. "I don't think I've slept that good in a long time."

"Good, cause you'll need to be on your toes from here on out." Maya gave a smile and plopped down on the cot by Caitrin's feet. "Are you going to be ready to go?"

"Yeah, just give me a few," she said between cautious sips from her mug.

Killian, Maya, and Caitrin had crashed at another faux worn-looking building hidden deep in the Northern Forest, this one being able to house a half dozen people comfortably. Killian assured the two women the place had remained undiscovered from anyone, and Caitrin wondered how many of these places the youth had tucked away.

It was just before dawn, and the local insects were still buzzing about-- a prelude to the songs of birds. It was just as well; either would help mask the sounds of their approach through the forest undergrowth.

The sound of shuffling of feet brought Caitrin's head up to see Killian standing sideways in the doorway, looking obviously unsure of entering. He cleared his throat. "Um, are you decent?" he asked uneasily.

Caitrin examined herself with a glance, noticing the jumpsuit she was still wearing was half unbuttoned. She quickly fastened her jumpsuit up to the throat and sat upright. "Yeah, Killian."

The teenager remained sideways for a moment longer, glancing at them out of the corner of his right eye, before finally entering with a compad in hand. "I have some good news."

"Let's see it," Maya said, moving off to the left and patting the space on the cot between her and Caitrin. When Killian hesitated, Maya gave a short chortle. "We won't bite, kid."

His face flushed a shade of red, the color being intensified by the orange haze of morning that filtered in through a wide upper window on the far wall of the room. As he took a seat, Caitrin could detect some annoyance in Killian's mechanical movement, and she flashed Maya a warning glance, visually telling her to ease up.

"Alright," he said, as he placed the compad on his lap. "I've compiled a list of equipment we'll need, and Donagh has located a small tech and weapons cache that has been abandoned for some time now." He looked over to Caitrin. "We actually passed it on our way out of the Palace." Killian touched the screen and a list began scrolling up. He narrowed down his search with amazingly fast keystrokes. "I have most of the computer gear on hand, but the rest we'll find there."

Maya nodded. "And if not, we'll just have to improvise." She must have caught Caitrin staring at his hands. "Killian here will be our tech wiz. He knows the systems like the back of his hand, and he's more familiar with Donagh."

Killian entered more information on the compad and shrugged. "I've known him almost all my life. From early on, my mother told me I could go to him with all sorts of questions, but to never mention him to anyone."

Caitrin frowned. "I'm sorry, Killian, but I have to ask this." She turned to face him, but the youth was still focused on the screen. "What _is_ Donagh?" she asked, and winced at the discomfiture of the question. It didn't sound any better in her mind than it did out loud.

Killian's fingers paused over the keys. "He's the Advisor," he said with a tinge of bewilderment. "He has helped my mother countless times in the past and has been like a grandfather to me." He turned his head and gave her a confident stare. "I trust him implicitly."

Caitrin nodded, but her expression remained. "I don't doubt that you do." Her stomach growled, and she wasn't sure if it was from the need for food or the tension growing in the room. "But is he . . ." she sighed, hoping not to offend the boy, "is he an AI or is he corporeal?"

Expectantly, Killian's eyebrows met in a mild, menacing stare. He opened his mouth to retort, but he clamped his lips closed. His eyes told Caitrin his unspoken question: How could you say such a thing?

"What Caitrin is trying to say," Maya interjected, "is . . ." Maya waved a hand for Caitrin to keep going.

"I just want to know what kind of allies we have," Caitrin continued. _To me there's a big difference between a real person and some program_. "Is he just an information broker?"

Killian frowned, as if she should understand. "He's the Advisor. He holds a vast amount of knowledge and wisdom."

Caitrin could care less about Donagh's moniker, but it did have an air of ambiguity that made her shiver.

"Have you ever met him in person?" Maya asked.

"I-- well, no," Killian admitted, looking more uncomfortable at this impromptu interrogation with every passing second. "His location has to be hidden, for safety protocols," he reasoned, more for himself than for the two women. "Besides, have you ever seen an AI so personal?"

_Apparently, the boy had never thought along this line of reasoning, nor encountered the latest generation of smart AIs_, Caitrin thought. _Though if Donagh has been aiding his mom, then he must be a few decades old, way past the average lifespan of any UNSC AI_.

Killian abruptly stood, tossing his compad on his vacated spot. "Why are we discussing this?"

Caitrin studied Killian for a brief moment. His posture was defensive in nature but layered underneath was a familiar uncertainty. "Killian," she said quietly, "if Donagh is all knowing, then why didn't he tell your mother about the CLF _before_ she got into office?" She did her best to gently break the question.

"I never said he was omniscient." Killian snorted. "Donagh obviously found out about the CLF through my mother." He pointed a finger at Caitrin. "And if it wasn't for Donagh telling my mother and me of your imprisonment, you would still be locked up in a cell."

Maya held her hands up and slowly stood. "Look, just settle down. Whatever he is, we need Donagh's help."

"I know," Caitrin murmured. _Maya's right, of course. They're both right_. Regardless of the ice storm forming in her stomach, Donagh had given her the hope that she would see her husband again. _Even if Killian is a bit naïve_. "I'm sorry," she said to both of them.

Killian closed his eyes and shook his head. "I'm sorry too." His shoulders slumped and he sighed. "Donagh has been a friend for many years now."

Maya smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder. "We all share a common goal. If we all work together, we can do this. Okay?"

"Okay," Killian breathed and returned to his previous spot on the cot.

"Copy that," Caitrin said.

Still standing, Maya folded her arms across her chest. "Good. And just to clarify," she said with an authoritative overtone wrapped in a histrionic manner. "Since I'm still on assignment, I'll be in charge." She pointed a finger at both of them, one at a time. "But that doesn't mean I don't want your input."

Caitrin nodded and had already resigned to the leadership structure of their small team.

Maya's gaze swept over the two for a few passes before resuming her position on the cot beside Killian. "Now, let's take this one step at a time, shall we?" she stated in a lighter tone.

"Yeah," Killian laughed and wiped a callused hand over his face. "Okay, so first thing's first. The bunker . . ."

* * *

As it turned out, the depot they were hoping to raid was far from abandoned. _Nice intel job, Donagh_, Caitrin thought to herself. She hoped this was not a sign of things to come.

It was still just before daybreak and the three infiltrators were crouched at the base of a massive tree 300 meters away from the double-door entrance, using one of its roots for cover. A dirt road divided the forest, and the complex itself was a simple rectangular building flanked by a two meter-deep ditch. With the naked eye, they could see two guards with automatic rifles slung over their shoulders, conversing in an animated fashion.

"Amateurs," Maya muttered.

Caitrin and Killian exchanged glances.

Maya closed her eyes and pursed her lips together. "Sorry, no offense." She motioned with her hand towards the guards. "What do you think?" she asked in a whisper, but to Caitrin her tone was that of a teacher looking for a particular answer.

Killian's brow furrowed in concentration. "Looks simple enough. Take them out; walk inside."

Caitrin shook her head minutely. "They're too restless." She looked up to the ever-brightening sky and back down again. "There must be a shift change coming."

Maya nodded. "That would be my guess."

Caitrin looked over at Maya and couldn't help but smile. Overnight, her once casual STSD roommate had switched into the highly trained ONI operative she had successfully hid underneath. Maya's tone of voice, even her gait, had changed, but she managed to maintain her quirky personality just fine. "So what's the plan?"

"We wait."

It took just under five minutes for a cargo vehicle to arrive with a driver hauling three armed passengers. The truck had kicked up a good amount of dust from the dirt road and Caitrin could sense Maya preparing for action.

"Caitrin, come with me. Killian, you stay here," Maya ordered. "Signal us if there's more traffic." She poked her head up above the tree base then crouched back down. "Numbers from here on out," she said, adjusting her own headset.

"Got it," Killian confirmed. Caitrin half expected the boy to protest being told to stay in cover, but he apparently knew his place.

Keying her headset on, Caitrin nodded, signaling her readiness.

The vehicle was almost to its destination when Maya bolted into the thickening dust cloud with Caitrin on her heels. The ONI op timed it perfectly. They had made it across the road and landed in the fern-shrouded ditch just as the passenger truck came to a stop. Using the dust cloud as another layer of cover, they followed the swirling dust through the ditch till they could clearly hear the voices of the guards.

Maya held up a fist and sunk into the leafy greenery. Caitrin mimicked her crouching movement, making herself as small as possible. From a dozen meters away, she could hear coughing mixed with laughter.

"You know, you could drive a little slower. It would keep that dust to a gently rolling mist," one guard being relieved said in a joking manner. "It's about time you guys showed up. These double shifts are killing us."

"As if complaining about it will help," the driver murmured.

Caitrin slowly raised her head to sneak a peak at the gathered men. They all wore the same livery as Palace Security but their slackened unprofessional posture told her they were obviously less disciplined. _Good for us._

One of the doors opened and out stepped another guard, this one an officer, given the fact that he had the comfort of an interior station. "Finally," he exasperated. "You guys get lost finding this place?"

"Give it a rest, will you?" the driver shot back from inside the rusted out truck. "I'm not the one that ordered the heightened security measures last night. You got a problem, talk to Higgins."

"Yeah, yeah," the officer said. He handed a smaller version of a compad to the replacement officer. "The latest numbers, Jimmy."

"Don't call me that," Jimmy retorted, and snatched the compad out of his hand. He gave it a casual glance and dismissed the three retiring guards with a wave of his hand. "You got any coffee brewing in there?" Jimmy asked, jerking a thumb towards the interior of the building.

"Nah, machine's busted."

Jimmy swore under his breath, and with that final exchange, the truck left with three different passengers. Within a solid minute, the small bunker was back to its normal looking self: two guards grumbling about their predicament with one grumbling inside.

Caitrin waited for Maya to make the first move, but her squadmate remained still, as if analyzing the situation to death. Finally, the two men turned to face each other, letting their rifles hang loosely over their shoulders, and Maya leaned over to Caitrin to whisper. "You take out the one closest to us; I'll sneak around and take the other." She handed Caitrin the collapsible shockstick she had appropriated from her STSD gear, and she pulled out a small pistol, one the size of her palm.

Caitrin reached over and laid a hand on Maya's sidearm. "Wait. These guys aren't Innies. They're just doing their jobs," she explained. "We don't need to kill them."

Maya's eyebrows met. "Maybe." But she spun the pistol in her hand, now holding it by the barrel. "Just be quick."

They both crept closer, using the sounds of insect life to mask their movement. The sun was now glinting over the horizon behind them, making their silhouettes that much harder to see. As the ditch came to an end, the bright orange light began to reflect against the bunker wall. Luckily for them, the ferns' coverage increased the closer they got to the wall, and Caitrin and Maya were soon hugging the bunker's exterior, hidden from the view of the guards.

By now, the guards were talking about some local sports team's triumphant return from a previously loosing season. They were ripe for the picking.

Maya tapped Caitrin on the shoulder, while still peering around the corner. She moved her left index finger in a circle and held up three fingers. Detaching from the wall, Maya walked past Caitrin and quietly made her way to the opposite side of the bunker by going around the back.

Her pulse was quickening, and Caitrin opened the shockstick to its full half-a-meter length. She thumbed it on, the low-level hum finding a natural home in the dissonant forest symphony. Caitrin took a position to peer around the wall, catching sight of the two guards fully enthralled in each others words. The one facing her was shielding his eyes from the morning rays with an upheld hand. At the far end, Maya's right eye peaked around the corner, followed by her left hand counting up to three.

_One. Two. Three_.

Simultaneously, the two women sprang into action. Maya took three quick strides; Caitrin took two large steps.

"Hey!" both guards yelled, each oblivious to the assailant behind them. They fumbled for their weapons, but never got another word out, let alone a chance to react.

Caitrin lunged forward with an outstretched arm, looking more like an Olympic fencer from ages past. The tip of the shockstick struck the bare neck of her target. With the highest setting possible, the jolt straightened him up, causing all his muscles to tense at once.

Maya swung her right arm up, the butt of the gun striking the guard's right temple. He staggered to the left, but Maya pressed her attack, bringing her left elbow to connect in the same spot.

With a collective thump, both men fell unconscious to the ground.

Maya smiled at Caitrin. "Happy?" she asked playfully. She started to wipe the blood off her sleeve, when the muffled sound of a chair being hastily pushed aside came from inside the bunker. "Go!" Maya hissed and pointed to the sides of the double doors.

They stood on either side with weapons ready. The right-most door clicked and began to open slowly.

"Avery? Jacobs?" Jimmy inquired, taking a cautious, first step forward. In his hand he held a grimy M6B with a finger already on the trigger. With his eyes firmly fixed on his two downed coworkers, he never saw Maya's right hook coming. With all her strength, she punched him in the jaw, spinning his head around for Caitrin to get a good look at his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

Shaking and flexing her hand free of the pain, Maya pointed to the three bodies with her unhurt left hand. "Get them inside. I'll see what Mr. Officer has left us for Christmas."

It took two minutes to get the three guards inside the bunker, and it took Maya as long to find everything she needed.

"Three," Maya called out to Killian. "Get in here. There's some computer junk you probably want to snag."

"Copy that, One," he said quickly and anxiously. "On my way."

"Two, you keep watch," Maya ordered Caitrin, tossing her a nasty-looking pistol she had snagged from a weapons crate.

_Nasty_, Caitrin thought, _as in deadly_. Taking the sidearm in both hands, she slid up to the cracked, left door, watching Killian sprint across the dirt road.

He skidded to a stop and squeezed through the cracked door. "Excuse me," he said, drawing out the middle syllable. "Watcha got?" Killian asked Maya who was kneeling down in between racks, still stuffing a duffel bag full of various equipment.

She merely pointed to an opened crate with faded lettering etched on the side. "Help yourself."

Eyeballing the three men sprawled out in front of the officer's desk for a brief few seconds, Killian quickly snapped his head back up. He frowned at the crate but began sifting through the many compads, interface couplings, and universal transmitters.

Caitrin inclined her head thoughtfully and smiled. Computer Techs were all the same to her: young, fidgety, full of themselves. But Killian was proving to be very disciplined and orderly. She returned her full attention back to the road, keeping her eyes and ears focused for anything abnormal.

From the officer's desk came a staccato tone. All three turned their heads to look at the source: a simple terminal with a keypad. "Officer Jarvis, this is Central. Come in."

Maya swore under her breath. "Our pal Jimmy must have called the disturbance in before investigating. Clever b-stard."

Outside, an object began to solidify in the far out morning haze. "Uh, we got a problem." Caitrin pointed to the road. "Their ride is coming back."

Maya was quickly at her side, zipping up the bag she was clutching to her chest. "Great." She tossed the bag to the side and pulled out a newly acquired M6C pistol from a hip holster. Her gaze swept over the distance to the other side of the dirt road, and when she sighed, Caitrin knew they had little choice but to fight their way out.

"Is it the same truck?" Killian asked while taking a seat at the vacated desk.

Caitrin squinted and could easily make out the rust marks that marred the left side of the vehicle. "Yep." She turned to Maya. "Orders?"

The jamming home of a full clip was Maya's only reply.

Bile burned in the back of Caitrin's throat as she slowly accepted the circumstances. _Maybe they're not responding to Jarvis' lack of a reply_. Even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew it wasn't true.

Four against two, didn't sound like very good odds, but Maya and Catrin had the element of surprise. _At least we have that going for us._

"Wait a second," Killian shouted, then realized his voice was a bit too loud and softened it for the latter half of his remarks. "Don't fire."

Maya, hesitant to take her eyes off the rapidly returning truck, came back with a single worded response. "Explain."

The vehicle was within range of their pistols, and Caitrin could hear Killian hammering away at the keypad. "C'mon, Three," she urged nervously.

Killian finished his work and looked up at the two women. "Close the door!" he hissed, waving frantically with his hands. "Don't fire."

Caitrin stepped back and let the door click closed, Maya duplicating her maneuver. Standing up on their toes, they peered out the thin slitted windows of the double doors. To her amazement, the vehicle picked up speed and zoomed past the bunker, the driver beating the steering wheel uselessly. At such reckless speeds, the three men riding in the back had no chance of abandoning the rogue truck.

The dust trail faded with the sounds of a roaring engine in the distance, and Maya finally turned to see Killian with a satisfied grin on his face. She raised an eyebrow and a slight edge crept into her tone. "Explain," she repeated.

Motioning to the screen and taking her a little more seriously, Killian swallowed. "I tapped into the Palace Motor Pool Hub. I had already grabbed the ID number while I watched you ladies sneak up to take down the bad guys." He stood and began detaching his compad from the terminal. "Most of these utility vehicles have an automated pilot system which allows the Hub to route them to different locations inside the motor pool." He gave both of them a lopsided grin. "I simply told the truck to return for an emergency maintenance check."

Maya looked back at Caitrin, and she just shrugged. "Well, then, good work, Three," Maya said in her best impersonation of a seasoned dignitary. She picked up the bag and offered it to Caitrin. "Let's go. I don't want to be here when these guys start waking up."

Their leader opened one of the doors and was gone.

Caitrin gave Killian a respectful nod and smiled. Whether Maya wanted to admit it or not, Killian had indeed impressed both of them.

She waved him over, and inside, Caitrin hoped this was a sign of things to come.


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

They returned to their temporary hideout in the Northern Forest, and the three quickly took inventory of their raid. As far as weapons went: four different variants of the M6 pistol series, two mid-size sub machine guns of unknown make, a handful of attachment suppressors, a satchel of remote-activated explosives, two cutting torches, and all the ammo they could ever need. Along with the munitions they had found some light body armor and a few of those interesting energy shields.

Killian was up to his armpits in computer gear and loved every minute of it. Over the next hour, he spent his time weeding out the useless and cramming the useful into a backpack that must have weighed him down considerably, but he offered no complaints.

Maya and Caitrin had opted for cleaning the weapons and loading clips in preparation for the upcoming intrusion. They remained relatively quiet, and Caitrin could tell the other two were growing as anxious as she was.

The raid on the bunker had given Caitrin a good first impression on their teamwork, and she felt more confident in their success than last night. But the reality of the entire situation was beginning to drape over her like a giant spider web. She knew struggling would only further her entanglement, and Caitrin tried not to think too heavily on her own doubts.

But the doubts were there. They were definitely there.

Trying to navigate through an underground compound controlled by a different breed of Insurrectionists was enough to give anyone second thoughts. A healthy fear for the unknown was normal, but coupled with the absolute need for victory made Caitrin's mind race to places she had thought long abandoned. She had overcome so much since setting off on _Emissary_; so many emotional walls and feelings of inadequacy had been reduced to rubble.

But now, Morcant's lovely face was hovering before her mind's eye. The very idea of him being alive had lifted her spirits tenfold and had let her finally sleep soundly. Her anxiety came when contemplating that very fact. She had buried him, tried her best to move past the most sorrowful moments in her life, and all of that was taking center stage, almost mocking her. She knew the joy at seeing Morcant again would be enough to quell those voices, but until she held his hands and kissed his face, she would have her doubts.

_For we walk by faith, not by sight_, she repeated to herself automatically. But the Bible verse did little to hide the fact that for proof of Morcant being alive, she would have to see him to believe it.

"Pass me that suppressor, will you?"

Caitrin snapped out of her daze with a shake of her head. She followed Maya's request and handed her the ten centimeter-long barrel. The cool metal sent a shiver up Caitrin's arm. "How many is that?"

Screwing the suppressor on the tip of an SMG, she nodded her head several times, counting. "This is the last one." Maya set the weapon down on the floor and started loading up a clip full of standard rounds from an ammo box. "Killian, you about done?"

The teenager was sitting cross-legged on the floor soldering one of the visors they had collected with the armor. His face contorted sourly when a plume of smoke reached his nostrils. He gave a short cough and wafted away the smoke. "Almost. I have one more to do," he answered.

"Good."

Caitrin smiled at Killian, but he was already back to work. The youth was more than adept at the tech responsibility. He had adapted three of the Palace Security headsets with his own private encryption, and he assured both women that Donagh would be able to communicate with them should they need his help.

Caitrin didn't voice her opinion on the matter.

Killian had also procured an archaic-looking compad, one with a blue screen, and he identified it as a special type. "The systems the Palace once used ran off these old controllers," he had said. "If the Innies haven't come up with their own network and they're siphoning off the existing one, then this will make it that much easier." Now he was fidgeting with the visors, giving them their own personal heads-up-display to rest over their left eye.

"Where did you learn all this stuff?" Caitrin asked, already on her second clip.

Killian shrugged. "Mostly from Donagh, but I read a lot." His reply came without as much looking up.

Maya and Caitrin looked at each other and cracked smiles. Killian was fully enveloped in his little Tech World, far from civilization and means of proper communication.

Maya returned to loading a clip full of rounds, and Caitrin watched the older woman's hands move with practiced ease. Caitrin didn't second-guess Maya's military résumé, nor did she doubt Killian's skill with technology. What she found deep inside herself was an ever-growing worry that she might let them down, let Morcant down, let herself down.

But what she lacked in experience, she made up with determination. She resigned to that fact and sat up, cracking her back in the process.

Maya had finished with the last clip and set it down in the ammo pile on the floor. "Okay, let's get one thing straight." She waited to go on until Killian had lowered the compad from his eyes and powered off the screen. She was still silent for a couple breaths before speaking. "This is going to be highly dangerous," she started, keeping her gaze fixed on some spot on the ground. "I never really pictured things to go this way. Hell, none of us did. But we're here and I've accepted the risk as necessary." Maya looked at Killian, then Caitrin. "Our goal is to find Morcant Lann and extract him. Make no mistake, we'll be walking into a lion's den."

She sighed and her posture deflated a bit. "I've seen my share of bloodshed and I'm prepared to see more, but I doubt both of you have seen real combat up close."

Caitrin's nose wrinkled at Maya casual assumption of her greenness. _But she's right_. Caitrin glanced down at Killian. His back had stiffened and she could see the tension in his neck make its way up to his brow.

"We'll do our best to avoid a firefight, but remember that any hesitation could get you killed," Maya continued, not picking up on the dark mood that had settled over Killian. "These Innies are the enemy. You shoot to kill, got it?"

Caitrin nodded, feeling a sourness slosh over her molars.

"Copy," Killian said mechanically. He lifted his head and his eyes blazed with a fiery intensity. "No hesitation at all."

Maya regarded him with a curious stare, then slapped her hands down on her thighs. "Alright, so let's go over the plan."

Killian snapped out of his stupor and activated his compad. "Right. Same as before: we enter via the entry point Donagh identified. He says the area is currently clear of activity, but once we leave and actually see it, we should have a better idea." Killian buried his forehead in the palm of his left hand. "I know, that sounded stupid."

"Why are we not waiting for nightfall?" Caitrin asked with a polite laugh.

"People that live underground don't run on the same internal clock as you and I. Security will be tight no matter when we enter," Maya explained. She pointed to the screen on Killian's compad. "Have you or Donagh been able to get a blueprint of the facility?"

Killian shook his head. "Apart from doing a seismic scan, we won't know till we drop through the hatch."

"Like Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole," Caitrin commented.

Maya gave her a sideways glare. "Let's hope not." She stood up and stretched her arms high above her head, eliciting a few pops and cracks. "We'll just have to be careful." Maya looked at her watch. "Let's grab a quick bite, then move out."

* * *

It was noon, and the midday sun offered its best effort to break through the leafy canopy overhead. The tendrils of light that did pass through where random and few. The air was comfortably dry as the three-member team made its way through the ever-thickening forest. Fallen branches snapped underneath booted feet, and leaves rustled with each step.

Killian was out in front, holding a scanner in one hand and a navigation device in the other. Maya and Caitrin were flanking him, the former with an SMG and the latter with a pistol. Both weapons were silenced with suppressors.

Killian came to an abrupt stop next to a tree and sunk down in the foliage. Both women were quickly at his side. "Just up ahead," he motioned with an upraised chin. "That's our entry point."

Maya craned her neck and squinted her eyes. "Where?"

"Fifty meters directly in front of us. Hold on." Killian set both his tools down and linked them together with a cable. He opened up a chest pocket, pulled out a monocular, and raised it to his right eye. "At the base of that smaller tree. You see it? The one with faded-red bark."

Caitrin frowned. "They all have that color of bark."

He handed her the monocular and stretched out his arm to give her a reference point. "You see the pattern on that tree?"

"I do," Caitrin replied, nodding. Through the lens' amplification, she could make out a circular marking with a line coming up through the base. It looked uncomfortable familiar but she could figure out why. She handed the monocular to Maya.

Looking through the glass she said, "Sensor readings?"

Killian picked up the scanner and nodded once. "Aside from the local wildlife, there's no one within a half-click distance."

Maya handed him back the monocular. "And the seismic scan?"

His linked devices chimed on queue. "Hmm," was his only response.

"Yes?"

"Well, the program didn't really get a good reading, but it might just be that the underground facility is shield to prevent such a thing," he explained, typing more data into his compad. "Other than that, I pickup no energy signatures that would represent alarms or locks."

"But there could be passive sensors, right?" Caitrin offered.

Maya nodded. "Stay close and step lightly." She took the lead, making her way very slowly, often pausing to listen to the sounds of the forest. Her two shadows followed orders and stayed within arm's reach at all times.

As it turned out, there were no sensors they could detect or find, and Caitrin found that more disturbing than comforting. Their way in looked to be no more than a ventilation shaft. The circular hatch, with faded, unrecognizable markings, had a weathered, mechanical latch.

Caitrin frowned as the three surrounded the closed, meter-wide shaft. "I thought Donagh said this was a secret entrance." She waved a hand at the latch. "To me, this is very utilitarian."

Killian knelt down and hammered the keys on his compad. "Hold on, I'm getting an answer to my inquiry . . . "

Maya kept her eyes panning their surroundings. "It probably does double duty. Keeps someone who might stumble upon the hatch to think of it as a well or something," she said not too convincingly.

Killian's compad beeped.

Maya glared at him. "You might want to turn the audio alerts off," she said sternly.

He nodded. "Done." Killian examined the latch with another hand-held sensor device. "Okay, what we have here is a ventilation shaft set on a timed release, most likely for the later evening hours. They must use it as part of an environmental system, you know, like how an old submarine would circulate its air supply?"

"So we have to wait till it opens in order to get it," Maya stated. She sighed in frustration.

Killian, his eyes still on the screen of his compad, held up a hand. "There is a passcode required, one that they would use to open for maintenance purposes, but that might raise an internal red flag." He typed away. "What I can do, is speed up the timecode so it will think it's nighttime."

"Do it," Maya ordered.

Caitrin sneaked a look at Killian's screen and watched the clock's numbers scroll up incredibly fast. With a soft puff of air, the latch retracted and the hatch ponderously opened. The air smelled musty with a trace of that familiar sulfuric scent. The filtered sunlight shining from above bounced off the interior of the shaft and illuminated the darkness below.

Maya poked her head in, surveyed with adjusting eyes, and waved both of them forward. "There's no lift, so we'll just use the rungs there," she said, pointing to the metal bars jutting out of the shaft's wall. "Three?"

Killian looked puzzled, then nodded and pulled up his seismic reader. "This drops for 30 meters, then branches off in three different directions." He stuffed his equipment in his backpack and hoisted the straps tighter. "Once we're on level ground I'll tap into their emergency exit listings and get a map without raising--"

"--Any red flags. Got it," Maya finished for him. "Onward. Er, downward, that is."

* * *

Caitrin's feet landed hard on the grated floor, but she managed to soften the impact by bending her knees. She quickly moved off to the side to accommodate space for Killian's leap from the bottom rung of the shaft. He landed off balanced, but Caitrin steadied him with an outstretched hand.

"Thanks," he said. He got on one knee and pulled his compad and other sensor gear from his backpack. "I'll have the layout of this place in no time."

Maya, a few steps away, nodded. "Make it quick."

Caitrin frowned at Maya's succinctness. But when she got her first real look at the three large tunnels that branched off of the shaft, Caitrin shuddered. Expecting to find the same tunnel design found underneath the Palace incorporated here, she was taken aback by the antithesis she saw.

At the bottom of the shaft, the area opened up into a three-way junction point for three matching tunnels. Pipes and conduits of various sizes running to infinity mostly hid the ceiling above. The ground was earthen and hard as rock.

The walls, however, was what made Caitrin shudder. Stone statues of individuals were arrayed along the length of the gray walls, most holding some form of weapon or tool. Roughly double the size of the average human, the figures towered over whomever entered the tunnels . . .

And the faces had all been shattered, carved away. Some heads were completely removed, violently, if Caitrin could guess.

"A warning?" Caitrin asked Maya quietly.

Maya just stared and studied the statues. "Perhaps," she offered.

The fact that Maya was so calm in the face of such a disturbing sight made Caitrin force down the burning sensation in the back of her throat.

"Three, do have that map ready?" Maya asked impatiently.

"Two seconds." Killian stood up and kept his eyes on the compad screen, oblivious to his surroundings. "There . . ." he trailed off as he looked up. "Whoa."

"Indeed," Maya said. "Which way?"

Killian held out his compad for Maya and continued looking at the different tunnels with defaced statues. "What happened here?"

"Beats me." Maya tapped the compad on Killian's shoulder. "Hey, stay focused. This really didn't help," she said, pointing to the flashing dot on screen.

"Sorry," Killian apologized. "Let me do this."

Caitrin flinched as the small optical overlay covering her left eye flickered to life. Its inactivity had made her forget all about the enhancement, but now its usefulness would finally come into play. A small, upside-down triangle appeared to the left with a metric distance reading. "Hmm."

"I've also uploaded the map of the area into your headsets," Killian explained. "I'll have to recalibrate ever few hundred meters, though. It shouldn't take long to do."

"Good, cause the longer we take to get to the target, the higher our chances of detection." Maya pointed to the left-most tunnel. "C'mon."

As Caitrin walked between the rows of marred statues, she noticed the glowpanels angled up to cast shadows on the ceiling, giving a haunting appearance to their slim frames. It came off as some type of _Valhalla_, a place for the fallen. She swallowed and kept pace with Maya.

The tunnel looked to go on forever, and the waypoint counter seemed to be moving at a snails pace, counting in ten's of meters. What was even more unsettling was the ever-present statues still lining the tunnel walls. _There must be hundreds, if not thousands._

Up ahead, there was a break in the repetitious pattern. The tunnel opened up into a rectangular foyer with large metal doors to the sides, and an ancient set of steps vanished directly forward into the depths of the planet. The stairway looked long abandoned, being swallowed in the darkness, while the pair of doors looked worn with use.

Killian walked over to the door on their left, pulling out another electronic device. He pressed it against the panel on the wall next to the door and waited for the sequence of lights on his device to all glow green. The door shuddered then began to retract into the ceiling with a few random squeaks and moans. "Go ahead, it's clear. I don't detect anyone on the other side," he said, waving them on.

Maya, her sub machine gun in hand, was first through.

Caitrin pulled out her silenced pistol and followed, but managed a passing glance at Killian's compad. Its numbers scrolling up awfully fast. "What are you doing?"

"I'm keeping the door open," he said with a smirk.

"Right," Caitrin said slowly. "Is there a double meaning to that fact?"

"Two, let's go," Maya insisted.

Killian shrugged, delaying Maya's order. "How else is Donagh going to follow our progress?" He detached the wall-mounted device and pocketed it. "Don't keep One waiting," he added, slipping past her in the doorway.

Caitrin frowned, and her expression deepened as the door lowered to seal them off from the foyer. "Hey, Three," she called after him, "you want to explain that?"

Maya swore under her breath and jogged back to where Killian and Caitrin stood. "Keep it down!" she hissed. Maya looked at Caitrin with a stern face. "What's this all about?"

Caitrin held her stare with Killian. "You tell her, Two."

Killian shrugged again, this time more mechanical than relaxed. "I'm keeping the system open like a water network. You know, like valves that need turned to accept the flow?" He turned to Maya. "If we get in a pinch, Donagh can use his own skills to "wet" their system, so to speak. He's much better at this than I am. He's helped me in the past crack passcodes of sealed Palace doors, so having him in their network would be much better."

Maya bit her lower lip for a second. "They won't detect such an intrusion?"

Killian shook his head adamantly. "I stationed a transmitter at our entry point. Nothing too powerful, but enough to get a feed to and from a junction point Donagh can operate with. Once he's in, he's in." He waved back to the closed door. "This door just required a simple passcode, but the more elaborate stuff to come, Donagh can crack. if we can find a terminal or security checkpoint that's unguarded, Donagh can slice in, no problem."

Maya lowered her SMG and sagged on her right leg.

_No doubt she's thinking what I am. Do we take the risk of using Donagh to hack the system and possibly get detected, or do we go it alone and hope to find Morcant by ourselves?_ Caitrin sighed. _I'm glad I'm not in charge._

Raising her weapon again, she straightened up to her full height. "We go as we have been. If we need Donagh's help, you get him on the comm for now. But only when I say, okay?"

"Copy that," Killian said plainly.

Caitrin frowned. _If we have to get Donagh on the comm, the CLF might detect the transmission_. She snorted to herself. _Then again, if we're calling him for help, we're probably in the thick of trouble and it won't matter._

Maya turned around and started down the middle of the low-lit square room. Support columns lined up in pairs, and the three walked into the center where the only light source provided the pillars with exaggerated shadows.

Just then, the heads-up-display began to flicker and fade. Caitrin tapped the side of her headset to adjust the contrast, but found it didn't correct the problem. She quickly glanced over Maya and found she was having the same technical difficulties. Their eyes met, then looked to Killian. "Three?" they both questioned in unison.

Killian began fumbling with his gear, looking for one device in particular. "I just have to adjust--"

A low-level rumble vibrated the ground. From the far end of the room, in the direction they were heading, a massive door started to descend into the grated floor.

"Go!" Maya ordered, pointing to three separate pillars. She matched words with action and ran to a support column on her right. "Hide," she whispered into the comm.

Caitrin dove to her left, rolling up into a crouch at the base of the nearest pillar.

Killian hesitated, unsure of which direction to go, but then stumbled to where Caitrin was.

Risking a look, Caitrin poked around the column just enough to see three floating objects being silhouetted by the intense light from the other side of the wide door.

And they were heading her way.


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Maya didn't have to tell them to keep comm silence.

Behind Caitrin the sound of metal rubbing against fabric told her the youth had pulled out his sidearm. She reached back blindly and shook her head. She mouthed the word, "wait."

He holstered his weapon and took out his compad. A tap on Caitrin's arm distracted her from getting another peek at the three incoming unknowns, but she turned around with annoyance imbedded on her face. Killian held up his compad for her to see a screen filled with static and flickering pixels. He turned the device off and tucked it back into the inside of his jacket.

Caitrin's eyebrows met and she frowned_. Whatever those things are, they're knocking out all our electrical gear. We couldn't use the comm if we want to_. She looked across the room to see Maya digging into her pouch. The team leader pulled out an explosive primer.

And Caitrin saw Maya throw her hands up in disgust when she realized she couldn't remote detonate it.

The objects were getting closer and from her current position, Caitrin figured they were almost two meters in size. As they approached the center, where the bright light flooded the room, the first glimpse of finer details could be seen. Mostly angular in design, the floating objects had a slender, central head, two arm-like appendages carrying something, and two fin-like tails. They were definitely symmetrical and definitely mechanical. But unlike Caitrin had ever seen before.

Caitrin elbowed Killian and pointed to the three anomalies.

A quizzical stare was his only answer.

Caitrin caught Maya's glance and the older woman held up a fist, signaling them to stay put but to be ready to act. Letting her eyes examine the outer casings of the unknowns, she tried to find a joint or weak spot she could target and exploit. The objects looked entirely well constructed, and she reset her grip on her pistol, eyeing up a potential shot.

As soon as the three floating objects reached the very center of the room, the ground began to quake as it did for their earlier entrance. Caitrin's eyes darted to the far door, expecting more company, but found the large door remaining closed.

The rumbling intensified and she felt a tug on her sleeve. She half turned around to find Killian pointing to the ground.

The floor had parted down the middle, bending on hinges, to vanish underneath. The white light above illuminated portions of the area below, revealing some sort of storage room with similar containers the drones carried stacked in orderly rows. Caitrin could see figures moving about on the lower level, but doubted they could see her from the glare of the overhead light.

The three curious objects descended into the opening in the floor, and as soon as they were clear, the hinged sections began to retract. With a concluding thud, the room was back to normal, and Caitrin finally noticed the same circular pattern from the identifying tree was inscribed on the hidden ground doors.

Letting out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, Caitrin hesitantly took a step towards Maya. The other woman did the same and the three infiltrators came out of hiding.

Maya rubbed the back of her neck. "Have you guys ever seen one of those things before?"

Caitrin shook her head, but Killian didn't make any movement whatsoever. He just stood there, staring at the sealed floor exit. "Hey," Caitrin said, probing his shoulder.

Killian's head came up and he blinked several times. "Sorry, I . . . " He shifted his weight to his left side and frowned. "I haven't seen one of those since I was a child. Not in real life," he quickly added, "but from stories— myths, really— use to scare children from venturing too far out in the woods. Tales of horrible creatures with tentacles that levitated." He motioned to the floor with a hand. "I guess they were real."

Maya's brow furrowed and she shrugged. "They look more like automated load lifters than monsters."

Still rattled, he shivered. "Yeah." Killian retrieved his compad and found it fully functional, no longer in a glitch. He re-synced the visors and they were on their way again.

* * *

"Hold up."

Caitrin crouched down beside Maya against the cold corridor wall.

"Another group is coming. Three, you ready?" Maya asked.

"Stand by," Killian whispered. He took out the old controller unit and entered in the automation for the drones to receive. "That should do it," he said, looking up at the cross section where five floating objects were turning towards them.

In unison, the load lifters' running lights flickered red for a moment before turning back to their normal yellow. They continued turning and straightened out, passing Caitrin and her team without as much emitting an electronic inquiry.

Maya nodded approvingly at Killian and she got up to walk into the center of the cross section. "Let's get our bearings shall we?"

Caitrin patted Killian on the shoulder. "Nice job."

"Thanks."

In their first encounter with the three mysterious objects, all of the team's electronic devices had either shorted out or turned off completely. But the old Palace controller unit Killian had tucked away in his backpack was still fully functional. Furthermore, he found that the controller not only recognized the drones as "sentinels," but that the controller could send commands to them. When Killian had linked this new information from the controller unit into his compad, they had discovered a bypassing route through the network of tunnels the sentinels used.

So far, it was working out well, but Caitrin still tensed when she saw the hovering machines.

Killian held out his linked devices as if he was searching for a GPS signal. "There, got it."

The fuzzy waypoint on Caitrin's HUD solidified into a shaper image. "Wait," she gasped. Her pulse began to quicken as she read the distance marker. _313 meters._ "We're not that far off."

"Three?" Maya asked, already heading down the recently vacated corridor.

Killian started to follow, reading off the data on his screen. "This corridor dead ends, then we go left where there's a short jog . . ." He lifted his head up and gave a satisfactory smile. "And that's where the sentinel checkpoint is for the Confinement Wing."

"Checkpoint for the sentinels?" Caitrin asked.

"Yeah," Killian said, picking up his pace to catch up with Maya. "It's mostly automated, so we could probably get past the first layer of security undetected."

"But we'll still have to personally enter the main detention post," Maya added. "That's were the fun begins."

"Yes. Fun," Caitrin muttered. Personally, it was not her idea of fun.

It turned out the "short jog" was a 30-meter long reduction in the corridor's size. The walls scaled down and the ceiling lowered the further they went. At the end of the "jog" was a wall decorated in complicated-looking patterns of tiny glowing lights. But an arching gateway with a hazy blue energy field made up most of the collage.

Killian quickly moved to the right side of the archway and began interfacing with the access panel. He was silent as he worked, but when he finished, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"What?" Caitrin inquired nervously. _We've come so far_ . . .

"Another closed box," he said disappointingly. "I can get us through the field, but I can't patch into their system."

"It's fine. You can hook up somewhere in the Confinement Wing," Maya offered.

With a frustrated sigh from Killian and a sigh of relief from Caitrin, the energy field deactivated and Maya led them through the archway. Caitrin noted that the sentinels would have to squeeze through one at a time in order to pass this area of the complex. On the other side of the deactivated barrier, small lights created a glowing grid pattern on the walls, while the ceiling and floors were so dark they denied any reflection. "This place feels so . . . other, you know?" she said to no one in particular.

"Quiet, Two," Maya gently admonished. "We're coming up on our exit."

The rectangular room was only a few dozen meters long and ended with two different doors. One was where the sentinels could enter the cargo carrier network, and the other door provided access for a maintenance team.

Killian knelt by the smaller door. "Through here is an L-shaped hallway. It will dump us out into a small utility room inside the Confinement Wing." He positioned his compad for both women to see the screen. "The layout is kind of weird. It's a ring configuration with an inner observation circle. The guard office will be directly across from where we'll be coming out."

"Sounds like a panopticon," Caitrin commented. She received puzzling looks from the other two and she shrugged. "What? That's what it is."

"Do you know how many guards are on duty?" Maya asked through a grin.

"No, sorry." Killian flicked the screen with his fingers. "I'm still not in their system."

"Okay, here's the plan," Maya began, pointing to the layout on screen. "I go first, Two, you're second. We enter through the utility room, clear out the office, then find our target." She looked Killian full in the face. "And you watch our backs. Got it?"

"Got it," Killian said, pulling out a pistol similar to Caitrin's and turning the safety off.

Maya turned to Caitrin with a stern expression. "Stay in cover and shoot to kill. I'm sure these Innies won't think twice about gunning down intruders."

"Copy," Caitrin said with an exhaling breath. She checked her own sidearm's safety. It was already off.

They entered the hallway and Killian interfaced with the final lock. The hardened door slid open and Caitrin stepped into the utility room. Racks of equipment, ranging from simple floor cleaners to shocksticks, lined the walls and were lit by a lone green light positioned over their exit point. Maya took a position to the left of the door, while Caitrin sided up on the right. Killian was behind her, nearly tucked in the corner of the cramped room.

With her SMG pressed to her shoulder, Maya nodded to Killian.

Quickly, quietly, the door retracted into the ceiling, and Maya slipped past the doorway. The panopticon was currently dark, which made their approach that much more undetectable, but the guard office door was open, spilling out a yellow light into the small lobby. The large window the office used was opaque on the exterior, but the lack of light in the lobby meant the guards inside couldn't see Maya's advance. Raising her weapon, Maya headed for the only known threat.

Caitrin was through the doorway, keeping her aim steady as she visually swept the empty lobby. There were two massive doors that connected the lobby to the main corridor, and they were currently unguarded. Behind her, Killian was beginning to emerge from the utility room.

A short staccato of muffled thuds came from the office and Caitrin sprinted towards the sound. When she was halfway across the lobby, a blur of motion off to her left spun her around. A guard was emerging from a swinging latrine door, still buckling his belt. His eyes grew wide when he saw Caitrin and he reached for the weapon slung over his shoulder.

Caitrin aimed her silenced M6 at the guard's chest with practiced ease . . .

But she never had to fire her weapon.

A round pierced through the guard's neck, entering on his right and exiting through the left. The wounded man stumbled forward, clutching his helplessly ruined neck, and another muffled shot rang out to hit him in the head. His cap hit the ground before he torso did, as all life slowly drained from his body.

Caitrin rotated on the ball of her left foot, towards the source of the destruction.

Killian stood, his feet shoulder width apart, still tracking the dead guard with his pistol. He looked as if we would pump another pair of rounds in the fallen guard, but he nodded once, finally turning to Caitrin.

She in turn nodded, but a sudden flash of light behind Killian caused her to take a step sideways. "Three, get down!" The flash of light was the reflection off of a gun barrel, and the wielder was another guard coming from the darkened observation circle.

Killian dropped on his left knee and rolled in that direction, turning around in the process.

The guard fired, his weapon sounding like a meaty punch to the stomach, and Caitrin feared he had hit his target. But the rush of air by her right ear told her the round had ricocheted off the ground and had nearly connected with her head. The guard was dressed in all black, but the flash of his gun barrel gave Caitrin more than enough reasonable target area. She squeezed the trigger, sending three quick bursts down the ten-meter distance. Caitrin kept moving left, always retreating towards the cover of the office, and another enemy round sizzled past her, this time tearing a whole in her jacket near her right hip.

Illuminated once again, her target started to receive rounds from Killian. With their combined barrage, the guard's weapon finally ceased and clattered to the ground, followed by a thump. Her heart beating loudly in her ears, Caitrin forced down the rush of adrenaline and took several deep breaths. Killian rushed to the downed man, and Caitrin hurried into the office, still in a daze from her first combat kill.

Maya was standing there over a console, her weapon poised in a tight grip. "Two, get Three in here, have him locate our Target," she ordered, shaking her head at the unfamiliar terminal.

Two dead guards were sprawled out on the floor next to the console in a pool of their own blood, and the image sent a shiver down Caitrin's spine. Wordlessly, she nodded and ran to the doorway. "Three," she hollered.

Killian was doing one last sweep of his surroundings. "We're clear," he confirmed. "Did One find somewhere I can plug in?"

"Yeah, now get in here," Caitrin said, waving Killian over. His shadowy figure was abruptly lit up as Maya found the overhead light switch to the panopticon. Caitrin stepped out to the edge of the circular area, allowing Killian to enter the office. The prison cells ran the entire length of the curved wall and the interiors were dark. The bright lights were unable to pierce the opacity of the barriers separating the caged from the freed. Somewhere in one of those cells was her husband.

"Two, get back in here," said the squashed voice of Maya through her headset's earpiece.

Lingering for a few more seconds but unable to see any of the prisoners, Caitrin replied, "copy." She returned to the office to find Killian seated at the terminal with more of his gear cluttering the desk. "Status?"

"I'm almost in," Killian said distractedly.

Maya turned to face Caitrin. "He has to hack into their main system in order to open up the cells."

"A command from this console won't open them?" Caitrin asked.

Killian sighed. "It doesn't work like that." He took off his backpack, threw it to the ground, and reset himself on the edge of the chair. "Their system is set up where a low-life guard cannot open a cell door without getting a rolling passcode from the main hub. Something that isn't provided till needed or till an official request has been made."

"Oh," Caitrin replied, getting the cue to back off and let the boy work. She walked back to the doorway to take a defensive position, should the need arise, but found her legs wobbly and unsteady. Caitrin felt dizzy all of the sudden and braced herself against the doorframe with an outstretched arm.

Maya was quickly by her side, grabbing her by the arm. "Whoa, you okay?"

Bending her knees to prevent a full-out collapse, Caitrin gave a weak smile. "I'm fine."

A look of concern washed over Maya's face. "First time in a firefight?"

"No," Caitrin said, shaking her head and thinking back to a short tussle a few marines had back home at the base she worked. "But this is my first kill," she spoke quietly. Caitrin poked a thumb in Killian's direction. "He's taking his first encounter just fine."

"I think he may have done this sort of thing before." Maya frowned and patted Caitrin on the back. "I understand your uneasiness. The first one is never easy to get over." Maya lowered her head. "I still remember mine," she said, sounding distant.

"And what about the second, the third? Do you still remember those?"

"They tend to all blur into one hazy memory." Maya was silent for a few seconds, and then the reflective moment passed. "But it was either him or you, and frankly, I prefer _you_ to some Innie," Maya joked.

"Good." Caitrin managed a laugh and found strength returning to her legs. "I'll be okay, really."

Maya eyed her suspiciously but with exaggeration. "Then we're in agreement."

"I've got something!" Killian belted out.

The two women were at his side in an instant and they searched the terminal screen for some sign of success. But when Donagh's voice entered their headset's they both frowned at each other.

"Interesting. It seems you three have been hard at work," Donagh commented.

Killian smiled and continued entering information into the terminal. "Donagh, are you in their network yet?"

"One moment."

The screen flickered off for a second before coming back to life with the same quality image Caitrin had seen of Donagh in the forest the other night, but only his upper torso was visible, seemingly hunched over a console of his own.

"I'm in," Donagh said, his voice now coming through the terminal's speakers.

"Can you open the cell Morcant is in?" Caitrin asked, her words spilling out of her mouth.

"It will take a few moments to fully wet the system," Donagh chided. "Patience."

Killian craned his neck around. "He'll be fast. He's always fast."

Maya nervously tapped her fingers along the grip of her SMG and took up a position to look out the long office window.

"There's something very odd about their system," Donagh murmured. "They seemed to have constructed a network on top of an older infrastructure. It makes for an unusual route around their security bots. I can use a—"

"Just make it quick, okay?" Maya called from the window.

Caitrin opened her mouth to supplement Maya's comments, but the unstable image of Donagh's head shook violently. It flashed red, then violet. His eyes glowed brightly in the abnormal hue, then flickered back to normal. "Initialization complete."

Killian clapped his hands. "Great!"

Caitrin sighed, only slightly annoyed at Donagh's demeanor. "Now can you find—"

"Killian, you can now deactivate the transmitters, I no longer need them. I'm now utilizing the base's communications relay," Donagh interrupted. He turned his head towards Caitrin. "I have unlocked cell 15."

Caitrin caught Maya's glance. "Go. Go get your husband," she said with a smile. "That's an order." Maya looked past her to get Killian's attention. "Tell Donagh to keep this area locked down." She waved Caitrin through the door and walked outside the office.

Her heart was beating so fast Caitrin though it might pound right out of her chest. She more or less floated to the cell labeled "15" with the barrier flickering to nonexistence. The three by three-meter cell was still without an internal light source, but there was just enough light spilling out from the main circular area to observe its contents. A water and sewer system was centered along the back wall, akin to her previous temporary cell. A small, three-legged stool occupied the far right corner . . .

And lying on the bed, nestled against the left wall, was a sheet-covered figure.

Caitrin's grip on her sidearm loosened and the pistol fell to the ground. Her eyes began to fill with tears. She pulled off her headset and casually flung it to the side.

The sounds of objects hitting the floor caused the person to stir under the sheets. "Look, you know how this ends, don't you? You Innies try and get some information from me and I put one of your guys in the infirmary. So why don't you go back to your little office and turn off that stupid light!"

Caitrin's sniffled laugh didn't sound so pleasing.

Her emotional reaction brought the figure lying on the bed to prop himself up on his shoulders. "Who are you?" he asked the silhouette, squinting at the harsh light behind her.

Through the overwhelming tightness in her throat, Caitrin took a breath and let it out. "Morcant."

The sheets flew off and feet landed on the floor. "_Caitrin_?!"

Unable to speak, she simply nodded.

In one fluid movement Morcant and Caitrin covered the space between them in two quick steps. A distance that was once measured in light-years then the physical beyond, was now nothing. They embraced with urgency and love that eternity itself could not separate. She pressed her body against his and her hands wrapped around him. Caitrin's head fit right under his chin and her tear-drenched cheek fell against his chest. Warmth flooded into her veins, tingling her toes and fingers, and flowed through her entire being. Her lower lip quivered and her shoulders began to shake uncontrollably as she continued to cry tears of joy.

"Caitrin," he breathed. Morcant, his frame feeling slightly bony, tightened his hold on her, nearly bringing her shaking to a close. "You found me," he half cried. His own tears were forming a moist spot on the top of her head.

After several long seconds, Caitrin pulled back just enough to look up at her husband smiling. His hair had grown long on his head and face. The dirty-blond locks mixed with the darker whiskers of his facial hair. His skin tone looked darker, but his arctic blue eyes were still able to pierce into Caitrin's soul.

Morcant cradled her neck and pulled her in for a long-awaited kiss. His lips were salty, and she imagined hers were as well, but it didn't detract from the moment. Closing their eyes he brought her even closer. He lifted her up in the air, spinning around as he did so, kissing her over and over again. He planted her back down so as the light could wash one side of both their faces.

"Hey," Caitrin laughed through the tears.

"Hey," Morcant mirrored.

Caitrin brushed a hand over his scruffy cheek. "Look at you. A beard?"

He gently wiped away the watery lines on her face. "What about you? Short hair?"

"You like it?" she asked, playfully twirling one of his locks with a finger.

"Yeah. It's cute."

"I thought you were . . . dead."

"Dead? No, just in desperate need to see my lovely wife again."

They kissed again and stood there, gazing into each other's eyes, searching every facial feature for some untold beauty.

Caitrin had not felt this joyful, this whole, since the last time Morcant had a few weeks stay at home. He was alive. He was here. And she would get them out.

Grabbing Morcant's hand, she knelt down and picked up her headset. "One, I have him."

"I bet you do," Maya laughed into the comm. From across the panopticon, Caitrin could see Maya waving. "C'mon. We need to hurry this up."

"Who's that?" Morcant asked, scooping up the discarded pistol and tucking it into a jumpsuit pocket.

"An ONI op, like yourself. Her name is Maya. We're here with a teen computer wiz, Killian," Caitrin informed, picking up her pace from a walk to a jog.

Morcant didn't mask his surprised tone-of-voice. "The Ambassador's son?"

"You know him?" she asked curiously.

"In name only. I didn't take him for a techie."

"He's go a little help." Caitrin smiled and looked up at him. "I just followed your instructions. He led me to Donagh."

Morcant's momentum slowed to a stop and his face turned to stone. "What did you say?"

Frowning, Caitrin went on to explain. "I talked with Donagh, and with Maya and Killian's help, we devised a plan to come rescue you. Killian has already linked him in to the base's computer system." She searched his face, but only found his expression darken.

"Donagh is _here_?"

"Well, yes. Kind of. Killian had to transmit—"

Morcant grabbed Caitrin by the shoulders and lowered his head to her level. "You don't understand. We have to get out of here. _Now_."

"Why? Morcant what's going on?"

"Caitrin, I sent you that message as a preemptive measure to keep the information trail from going cold. I'm glad you came, but I didn't have all the facts till _after_ I was captured."

He lowered his voice to just above a whisper. "Donagh was the one that told the CLF where I was and what I was here for." Fire burned in his eyes, but instead of melting the arctic iris, the hue only intensified.

"Donagh betrayed me, and he's sure to betray you and your team."


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Caitrin's eyes grew wide as her mind began to race._ Is everything Donagh told me a lie, a clever ruse just to use against me when needed? He helped me find Morcant, but what did _he_ gain from all this? _Caitrin swore under her Donagh had ulterior motives, Caitrin could determine their ends.

She shook her head. "Morcant, what could he have planned? We got you, now we're on our way out." Caitrin waved Maya closer.

Maya trotted over, her smile diminishing the closer she got as she recognized the worry on Caitrin's face. She nodded to Morcant. "Let's form up and head out."

"Maya, we have a problem," Caitrin sighed.

Morcant nodded. "How much do you know about Donagh?" he asked with apprehension.

Maya frowned. "ONI tagged him as an unknown, possibly some type of information broker, but he was my only lead."

"But he contacted you, right?" Caitrin felt her stomach begin to grow cold.

"Yeah, via my personal comm. I didn't think anyone could have gotten my listing, but when the caller identified himself as 'Donagh,' I had to follow through on the intel." She placed her left hand on her hip. "What's this about?"

He looked at Caitrin then Maya. "Donagh gave me into the CLF's hands," Morcant growled.

"_What_?"

"Look, I stumbled upon Donagh pretty much the same way you did, Maya, though at the time ONI wasn't happy with our team's lack of progress." Morcant sighed. "As time went by, it seemed that there was no Insurrectionist threat on Andvari. My team had gotten nowhere on the intelligence front and Colonel Ross was about to pull us out. But just in time, Donagh told me to meet him—alone, saying he could tell me what I needed to know." Morcant began to pace back and forth. "He told me vague things at first, saying the planet was divided, and I could tell he was leaving out a lot of details, but when I asked him where the Insurrectionists were, he told me to come back later to discuss the matter. Something about following procedure.

"I reported to Ross, who in turn threatened to court martial me for conspiring with the enemy. I told him that Donagh was our best lead and that there were no known Insurrectionists threats perceivable." He shook his head. "When I returned to Donagh at a hidden location in the forest, he told me about the Colonial Liberation Force. I was going to go follow up on this new insight but . . ."

Morcant's hands knotted into fists and Caitrin quickly grabbed one, placing her hand in it. "The next thing I knew I was being dragged out into the night and knocked unconscious."

"You think Donagh is working for the CLF?" Caitrin asked.

"Who else? Our ONI comm gear is state of the art. No one could have gotten past the encryption we use. And I _know _I wasn't followed there."

"Unless . . ." Caitrin's heart froze in her chest. "Colonel Ross knew you had met with Donagh. Maybe _he_ arranged your capture."

Morcant's gaze bore right through her. "That's impossible. Why would he—"

"Wait a second." Maya rubbed the bridge of her nose with thumb and forefinger. "Let's not jump to too many conclusions here."

"You're right," Morcant concurred. "Let's just get out of here." He checked the slightly expended clip of Caitrin's sidearm and popped it back in. "Then we can figure all this out."

Maya worked her jaw for a moment. "Alright, but we need to grab Three." She turned to go . . .

"Is that the best idea, right now?" Morcant asked with a wince. "Maybe he's in league with Donagh's plans, or even the CLF."

Caitrin glanced over at the dead guard Killian had killed. "I sincerely doubt that." She looked up at both of them. "And I don't think he knows what Donagh has planned, if anything."

"He _is _a bit thick-headed," Maya added.

The three entered the office where Killian was conversing with Donagh. The terminal's lights were blinking at a rapid pace.

"C'mon Three, we're going."

Killian didn't bother to turn to face Maya. "But Donagh is making great progress. Just give him a few more minutes," he pleaded.

"It's not a request," Maya said sternly.

The image on the terminal's screen flickered once and Donagh appeared before them. "Yes, we are making exceptional progress. I've accessed their archives and will soon determine—" Donagh cut off, finally catching site of Morcant. "Ah, Mr. Lann. It is good to see you again."

"Cut the crap, Donagh. I know you sold me out," Morcant said, pointing an accusing finger at the screen.

Donagh's head tilted to the side. "What do you mean? I gave you the information you sought."

"Enough of this," Maya bit out. She dropped a heavy hand on Killian's shoulder. "Pack it up and let's go."

He shrugged it off like a child throwing a mini-tantrum.

"It is alright, Killian Mahlon. I will continue the process in your absence. I no longer require your presence at this terminal," Donagh informed. He nodded and his fuzzy image on the screen was replaced by an error message: Terminal locked.

This time Morcant physically hauled Killian out of the chair by the collar of his jacket. "We need you to guide us out of here, kid."

Killian shook Morcant's grip loose with a flailing arm. "Yeah, I know," he said condescendingly, flattening his jacket across his chest where Morcant had ruffled the fabric. Killian gathered his things into his backpack and hefted it over his right shoulder. "Lead the way," he murmured disinterestedly.

Maya eyed Killian sourly, but led the team of four through the office doorway. Morcant, bringing up the rear, shut the door and it locked internally. "What the—"

"Donagh can conceal our entry from this place," Killian said. "Don't worry. I still have him on the comm." He tapped his headset with his left index finger.

"Yeah, okay." Morcant's tone matched Caitrin's mood: dismal.

They were almost to the utility room door when a sudden displacement of air brushed across Caitrin's face. It wasn't their exit door opening, but rather the main security door at the front of the lobby. It was slowly creaking to permit a fully armored guard to step through sideways. Caitrin felt a hand on her back, pushing her forward.

"Go!" Morcant yelled. He raised his pistol and fired several rounds at the emerging guard. Reflexively, the man ducked back behind the door, seeking cover.

Killian held out his compad, pointed it at the utility room door, and flipped a switch. The door shot open and Maya quickly took a position just inside the doorway. Killian rushed inside, followed by Caitrin. As his clip rapidly depleted, Morcant's suppressing fire was replaced by Maya's SMG fire. But as soon as the last member of the team dove into the utility room, armored figures started to pour into the lobby.

When enemy rounds started to ping off the wall, Maya reeled back and hit the manual release on the door with her shoulder. Maya dropped her SMG to the ground and shook her gun-wielding hand as if it were on fire. She swore and clutched her hand to her chest.

Caitrin brushed past Morcant getting up off the floor and asked, "what happened, One?" She then caught sight of the dark red spot forming on her outermost layer. "You're hit."

"Just a graze, really," Maya answered through clenched teeth. She pulled her hand away from her chest and revealed a deep cut just below the knuckle of her pinky. It started to bleed again so she clamped down on the wound with her left hand.

Caitrin looked around for a strip of cloth to wrap Maya's hand in, but even the tattered remains of her bullet-holed jacket couldn't supply an adequate length. Maya's eyes rolled up and Caitrin got the clue. Caitrin undid the black bandana holding Maya's hair out of her face and fastened the makeshift bandage around her palm with a forceful tug.

"Ouch." Maya flexed her fingers experimentally and the grimace on her face told Caitrin of her discomfort. "Three, you got that door open yet?" Maya asked, lifting her gaze above Caitrin's head.

A new rush of air was all the answer Maya needed. Morcant was already through to the hallway of the sentinel checkpoint, but Maya pointed to the door that led out to the lobby. "Three, can you seal this? Remotely, I mean."

"Yeah, one sec." The overhead light flashed red. "Got it."

Caitrin bent over and scooped up Maya's SMG. She tossed it through the doorway to Morcant, figuring she should stick with a manageable pistol, and made for the exit with Maya in tow.

Behind them, the sound of fists beating against the door gave them cause to hurry. The pounding ceased as soon as it started, and was followed by a sizzling akin to cooking meat.

"Flash paste!" Maya pushed Caitrin through to the L-shaped hallway and Killian slammed the door closed. The muffled explosion rained dust from the ceiling and Maya exchanged a worried look with Caitrin.

"Can that stuff blast through this one?" Caitrin asked, rapping her knuckles on the door Killian just closed.

Morcant answered for them. "I highly doubt it." His eyes swept over the doorframe. "This one is part of the original installation." He frowned. "But I imagine they know where we are now, so they'll find a way here regardless if it's through that door or another."

Maya sighed. "So we probably should scratch our exit vector." She pulled out a silenced M6B from a hip holster. "Okay, new plan." She started heading for the sentinel checkpoint and asked, "any ideas?"

Caitrin sided up next to Morcant, taking his hand in hers. He smiled at her and gave her a quick hug. "What _are_ our options?" she asked Maya.

"We either head for the forest hatch, like we planned, and most likely fight our way out. Or we try to find another way and hope to remain undetected as long as we can."

"What about that loading area where those sentinels were dropping off supplies?" Killian offered, already preparing the old controller to deactivate the barrier.

"That lower-level warehouse?" Caitrin snapped her fingers. "There's probably a transportation hub down there," she said, finishing the boy's suggestion. "We could make it out of here by commandeering one of their transports."

Maya turned her head and offered Caitrin a smile. "Right." She stepped through the checkpoint and turned around to face the team. "Alright, then. Sounds like a plan."

* * *

The pillar room was as they had left it: cold, dark, and void of personnel.

Since leaving the Detention Wing, none of them had seen one of the sentinels, and Maya figured they were on lockdown as a security measure. But whatever failsafe system the base used, the controller unit was all Killian had to use to break through a new layer of security when it presented itself. The boy was reliable but his displeasure of his earlier treatment was present with his verbal shortness.

Caitrin had to mentally recall what she saw when the hinged doors opened the floor to the lower level. If she remembered correctly, there would be a ten-meter drop to the ground. "We're going to need something to get us down there," she said, pointing to the closed doors. "It's a far enough drop to break a bone."

Maya nodded. "Yeah," she sighed. Abruptly, her head rose up, she clapped her hands, and immediately regretted doing so. Swearing to herself, she worked her fingers to alleviate some of the pain in her right hand. "Okay, how about this: Three could send some of those load-lifting sentinels here, we stop them, and empty out the containers."

A smile formed on Caitrin's face. "We get a free ride into the warehouse," she finished.

Killian was already punching away the command on the controller. His face was a stoic mask.

Caitrin thought about asking the boy if he was okay, but a tug on her arm turned her around. Morcant was standing there, wordlessly inviting a hug. Her smile turned into a grin and she wrapped her arms around him. His jumpsuit smelled of must and sweat, but she didn't mind. She had her husband back.

Morcant kissed her on the top of the head. "So what else have you been up to?" he asked casually.

She looked up, stood on the tips of her toes, and gave him a quick kiss. "Eh . . . a little grocery shopping, working out, impersonating a Skyline Transport Security Detail officer. Nothing much, really." She kissed him again. "How 'bout you?"

He shrugged coolly. "Top secret ONI mission, getting captured, rotting in a prison . . . typical stuff." He cracked a smile and touched her forehead with his. "And thinking about you the entire time."

Caitrin rolled her eyes amusingly. "You're never good at that stuff, you know?"

He laughed and kissed her on the cheek.

"Keep it down, you two," Maya playfully scolded, but there was a seriousness to her tone. "Here they come," she said, pointing past the two lovebirds to the large opened doorway behind them.

Caitrin and Morcant moved off to the side, and stood beside one of the room's massive support columns. She took her gaze off of her husband to watch a pair of sentinels duck into the room carrying two large boxes made of some ceramic material.

"Stand by," Killian ordered, as he fearlessly walked up to the insect-like machines. He held out the controller unit, pressed a few keys, and the sentinels' running lights instantly went from yellow to red. The machines slowed to a stop and hovered before Killian, awaiting his next command. He entered more information into the controller and hit the transmit key . . .

The sentinels didn't budge.

Killian looked back to his audience, gave them a quick smile, and reentered the command.

But he got the same result: inaction.

"Need help?" Maya offered with a bit of motherly tone in her voice.

"No," Killian responded in typical child-like fashion. He shifted his weight to his right side and looked up at the two hovering sentinels. "Ah, hold on." He pressed a single key on the controller and the containers dropped suddenly to the ground.

Caitrin expected the impact to crumple the containers, but they merely clattered to the ground with a quick thud. In the silence that followed, she half expected Maya to explode in anger over the loud crunch. After all, they _were_ trying to mask their approach, so making any loud noises was a surefire way to alert others to their whereabouts.

But Maya just pulled out one of the cutting torches she had stuff in her bag and handed it to Morcant. She drew out another and they both got to work on opening the crates. "Try to break the seal without snapping the latches. We still want them to appear untouched."

Morcant nodded and adjusted the nozzle on the torch to a finer point. The small blue flame made slow progress on the ceramic surface and the cutting was meticulous, but worth the wait. After a good three minutes, Morcant opened the lid and let out a whistle. "Cait, come look at this."

Pulling out a glowrod, she stepped to the container and waved the light beam over the crate's contents. The hairs on the back of her neck rose when she peered inside. Held in place on wood supports were four long, charcoal-gray cylinders tapered at one end with three small fins at the other. Caitrin looked up at Morcant's shaking head. "Are these what I think they are?" she asked quietly.

"ASGM-10b missiles," Morcant clarified. He plucked the glowrod from Caitrin's hand and focused on the shadowy corners. Caitrin supported the lid for him as he rummaged through the crate.

"What did you find?" Killian asked, coming up to the other side of Morcant.

"Bad stuff," Morcant grunted, coming back out of crate with a newly acquired compad. It was a static manifest list, complete with serial numbers and place of origin. "It looks like the CLF is planning for their own privately-funded war." He handed the compad to Killian, who received it with wide eyes, and looked over to Maya. "How about yours?"

Sighing, more out of physical exhaustion than from revelation, Maya closed her container's lid and set her own manifest list on top. "The same." She shook her head. "This is not good." She motioned to the other crate. "Did you catch the latest serial number? The first one in my crate reads: 5-0003026."

Caitrin's gaze swept back and forth between the two ONI ops. "I take it that's bad?"

Morcant nodded. "The first digit is the factory number, and the rest is the corresponding ordinance count."

Her mouth dropped open. "They have 3000 of these things?"

"At least," Maya murmured. "The manifest says they're to be fitted onto B-680's, which I assume is their superiority fighter, the Backsword."

"Why would they do this in the shadows?" Killian asked, reading over the information on the CLF compad. "I mean, it's no secret the government has an army." He pulled the compad closer to his face and furrowed his brow. "Uh, this says '756 of 3000.' Does that sound like a high number to you?"

Maya pursed her lips in disgust. "We've seen Andvari's military and defenses. They are already well equipped. Why in the world would they need all of these missiles?"

"They aren't for defense. They're air-to-surface," Morcant supplied. His face turned to stone.

Caitrin felt a sour taste in her mouth. "So the Innies are planning some sort of attack."

"It looks that way," Maya said soberly. She folded her arms across her chest and started pacing back and forth. "This is not good, _at all_." She shook her head. "I can't believe I'm doing this." Maya activated her comm. "Donagh, you there?"

"What are you doing?" Morcant hissed.

Caitrin frowned, but switched her headset to SPEAKER so Morcant could listen in.

"What do you seek?" Donagh answered, his voice sounding tiny but clear through the comm.

Maya sighed. "We've stumbled upon some crates containing missiles fitted for fighters. We need to know if that's all the CLF is making or if there's other weapons they're building."

"You must be referring to the ASGM-10b's. Most effective against starships and ground-based targets."

"We know what they are, Donagh," Caitrin said, growing tired of his ramblings. "Just answer the question."

"Very well," he replied with no less enthusiasm. "On site, the Colonial Liberation Force assemble fully functional B-680's as well as an impressive amount of armaments. The most recent figures I can find in their network show approximately 250 Backswords, fully armed and ready for launch."

"So they're just manufacturing fighters," Morcant said.

"Correct," Donagh confirmed, "at this site."

Caitrin paused as she frowned. "What do you mean, 'at this site?' Are there others?"

"I have traced their comm activity from the last few weeks and have found several off-planet installations from which they receive material. All are within this sector. Would you care to see the relevant data?"

"Send it," Maya said, pulling out her own compad that was linked to her comm unit.

Caitrin duplicated Maya's actions and soon data was spilling out on her own compad screen. Everything from grenades to rocket launchers— as well as the unique Andvari shields— filled up the infantry allocation. Heavily armored assault vehicles, Pelicans, TR9 mines, and the Backswords rounded out the list, but Caitrin found it odd that there were no large starships listed.

Morcant grumbled something incoherent. "If they're planning some sort of invasion, how are they going to move all of this stuff?" he asked, voicing Caitrin's thoughts. "I don't see a single transport or carrier listed."

"Maybe they're not on file," Killian suggested.

"Improbable. It is most likely the CLF has arranged troop transport on a carrier currently in interstellar space, awaiting the command to come to Andvari," Donagh informed.

"Fine." Morcant placed both hands on the crate and leaned over in obvious disgust. "I highly doubt ONI has any idea _this_ is happening in this sector. We have to do something."

"Then we better get out of here so you can tell Colonel Ross what's going on," Caitrin said nervously. Her comment was met with silence stares from both Maya and Morcant. "Wait, you're not seriously thinking about . . ."

"Giving ONI the intel might not be enough," Maya said, walking over to the others. "Even _if_ we get back to a UNSC outpost and alert them it could be weeks for them to mount a response."

"She's right, Cait," Morcant murmured, pushing himself off the crate and folding his arms across his chest. "We have to put a stop to this here and now."

"And how do you suggest we do that?" Caitrin asked hesitantly.

Maya tilted her head in contemplation. "Well, they would need a staging area for everything." She lifted her chin towards Killian. "Three, can you get us an updated floor plan?"

"Not without Donagh's help," he admitted.

She winced, but nodded. "Do it. With luck we'll be able to pinpoint a hangar of some sort."

"I already have the location available," Donagh interrupted, though his tone was void of haughtiness.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Caitrin demanded.

Over the comm, there was a static pause. "Because you didn't ask."


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

"We still need a backup plan," Maya said. "If we all die, the Innies still win."

Caitrin cringed at the other's remark.

Morcant gave a resigning sigh. "You're right. ONI needs the intelligence no matter what happens to us." He looked at Maya, Killian, and Caitrin, pausing for a few seconds on each. "At least one of us has to get back and send the relevant data to Colonel Ross."

Maya flexed her wounded hand. "Well, considering ONI thinks you're KIA and since I'm technically still on assignment, they would only believe me." She gave Morcant a flat smile. "It looks like there's no choice at all."

The temperature felt as if it had dropped a few degrees, and Caitrin shivered. Of everything that had transpired over the last few hours, she feared that if they separated . . . "Wait a second. If one of us leaves now then the CLF could catch wind of it and might rush to action." She frowned. "If they know their plans have been compromised, they might speed up whatever timetable they have."

Maya swore and banged her good hand off the top of the crate. "If they haven't already," she muttered. "Three, what are the odds that Donagh's little vacation into their system hasn't already been detected."

Killian opened his mouth to answer, but Donagh put words into the air before him. "It is highly unlikely. I'm currently hiding in their memory buffer, allocating and shifting bits of data around so as to appear nothing more than an automated system scan."

"And what about our transmissions?" Caitrin asked, sensing uneasiness from her husband. He really didn't like this reliance on Donagh.

"Again, unlikely. The encryption is based on already occupied frequencies. When a common command is sent, our communications latch on to the tail of the last few sequences, masking our usage. There is plenty of chatter and base functional commands still running, so we will be perfectly operable for the duration."

Surprisingly, Killian frowned. "That sounds risky, Donagh."

Morcant rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he sighed. "Regardless, we're going to need to take out their launch capabilities. The last thing the UNSC needs is overwhelming enemy fighter support."

Maya nodded with closed eyes. "Donagh, you said that you have the location of their staging area. Can you bring that up for us?" she asked, motioning for Killian to access his compad.

His screen flashed from a green outline of the floor plan representing their current location to a zoomed-out view of the overall facility. Caitrin gasped at the enormity of the base_. No wonder the CLF is bringing everything here_.

A new area was highlighted in red and pulsed in rhythmic fashion. A yellow path connected their destination with their starting point, snaking nearly the entire outer edge of the base. The path carved would keep them in the sentinel tunnels for the length of the trip.

"Okay, what are we looking at?" Killian asked as the others gathered around for a closer look.

"It's self explanatory," Morcant murmured. He pointed to the flashing red area. "That must be their staging hangar. And this," he moved his finger along the yellow pathway, "is our route." He straightened up and wordlessly moved a finger across his neck, signaling to Maya to cut the feed from Donagh.

Maya frowned but keyed her comm. "Thanks, Donagh. We'll let you know if we need anything else."

"I recommend you remain in contact with me," Donagh said hurriedly.

"Noted." Maya flipped a switch and the comm felt silent. Her expression deepened as she stared at Morcant. "I take it you don't want to follow his advice?"

Morcant shrugged. "Oh, I don't doubt the hangar is our true target," he said, casually folding his arms across his chest. "But I don't trust him on the means to get there."

Killian's gasp sounded more hurtful than Caitrin expected. "How can you say that? He's giving us a straight shot at the objective and you want to ignore our best approach?"

"In my experience, the first option isn't always the best," Morcant answered calmly. "For reasons I don't blame you for not understanding, I simply can't put my faith in Donagh right now." He looked up at the two women. "He's given the CLF my location before, so I'd rather not go down a path where he knows I'll be walking."

Maya eyed him thoughtfully, but eventually nodded once. "So I take it you have something else in mind?"

"Yeah." Morcant craned his neck towards the floor doors. "We head down to the lower level and commandeer a transport, just like Cait said."

Caitrin half smiled. "Okay, but we're not leaving the base yet, Honey."

"Honey?" he asked amusingly.

"Honey, Darling, Dear, whatever to get your attention," she replied playfully.

"Okay," Morcant laughed. "No, I don't plan on leaving just yet. They know where we were last: the sentinel tunnels, so lets do the exact opposite." He pointed to an unmarked section on the downloaded map. "We use their normal transit lines."

Killian squinted his eyes to try and see what Morcant obviously did. "What transit lines?"

"Several times when they would take me to an interrogation room, they would use a personnel carrier. If they can fit something that large through the halls of this place, then they sure as hell have something we can use to get us where we need to go." He pointed again to the spot on the compad screen but ran his finger along a darker shaded area. "We take their cargo lanes right to the hangar. Cait, you said there was a storage warehouse below us?"

"Yes, but I'm not sure what's down there," she answered, trying to catch up to her husband's speed of thinking.

Maya nodded in agreement. "A warehouse would surely have access to ground load transports. We sneak in, we grab one, and we head out to the hangar. Simple enough."

"What about the workers down there? Are we just going to take them down?" Killian asked, a slight edge in his voice.

Morcant shook his head. "No, absolutely not." He looked up to get everyone's eyes. "From here on out, our safest option is to avoid detection. Unfortunately, it's also the hardest."

After a good ten minutes of removing the missiles and wood bracing from the crates, they were ready to move. There was never any question that the married couple would prefer to be together inside one crate, but rather it came down to a matter of pure physics. Morcant was the heaviest and Caitrin was the lightest. Maya and Killian both looked at each other with uneasiness, but the mission called for them to put that aside . . . for now.

Caitrin rechecked the feed coming from Killian's controller unit. She held her own compad out so both her and Morcant could see the screen. It flashed to life and the image was of themselves, from the side. She looked up at the sentinel hovering quietly to their right and suppressed another shiver. She still wasn't getting use to seeing the machines and she doubted she ever would. "Okay, Three. We're up and running."

Killian walked over and typed more information into the controller. By using the sentinel's own visual sensor, they would be able to see what was going on around them without the need to crack open the crate's lid. "Alright. Once we get inside our respective crates, I'll issue the command to enter the warehouse."

"What happens after that?" Maya asked.

"I assume we'll get dropped off and placed on a shelf somewhere," he answered.

Morcant scratched the back of his head. "That's my guess. Hopefully it will be someplace nice and quiet."

Caitrin grabbed the edge of the crate and felt the ceramic texture with her fingers. "Speaking of quiet, these crates don't seem that thick. We'll have to make sure to keep comm silence."

"Of course," Killian said with a hint of annoyance. He returned his stare to the controller.

Morcant narrowed his eyes, but Caitrin shook her head minutely to forestall a new argument between the two. "Then let's pack it up and go," Morcant said instead. He turned to his wife. "After you."

Caitrin smiled at his courteous bow and lifting of the crate lid. _Chivalry was indeed still alive_. She stepped one foot in and rotated awkwardly under the lid. She caught a glimpse of Maya tapping a finger over her lips, obviously trying to work out an arrangement so both she and Killian could fit into their own crate with as little physical contact as possible.

Morcant gave a sinister laugh wrapped in amusement. "Well, if things get too uncomfortable in there, at least she's packing heat," he whispered to her.

Caitrin gave a soft laugh, but wondered if there was some double meaning to his comment.

Maya spun around and gave Caitrin an evil eye.

The last thing Caitrin saw before Morcant got in and closed the lid was Maya shaking her head with her hands folded defiantly. Positioned on her side, she draped an arm around Mocant's stomach, snuggling with him, as it were. She pressed her body against his and let out a gentle coo.

For a few long seconds, they just basked in the comfort of the other's presence and the return warmth their bodies emitted.

"Now this, I could get use to," Morcant said, his voice sounding odd from the lack of reverberation natural acoustics usually provide. He gave her arm a quick squeeze and held up the compad for both to see. "One, are you in yet?" he asked, lowering his voice to just above a whisper.

Over the comm, there was a frustrated grunt.

"You okay?" Caitrin asked, doing her best to suppress a laugh.

"No, just . . . Watch it! I can't . . . just put . . . okay. Okay! Yeah, we're . . . we're ready," Maya said finally, sounding flustered. "Three, key the sequence, already," she whispered, this time sounding more in control of her voice.

Caitrin pulled her left arm out, the one she had squashed against the bottom of the crate, and braced herself against the panel above her head. Expecting the sentinel to latch on forcefully, she was surprised when the crate was gently lifted up off the ground. She watched the moving image on the compad screen as the sentinels started to move forward. Soon the creaking and moaning of the large floor doors could easily be heard through the ceramic material. She felt the crate dip forward and clenched her teeth, holding her arm stiff against the crate lining.

With her ear firmly pressed against the ceramic bottom, Caitrin began to hear the shouts of warehouse workers. She gave Morcant's arm a quick squeeze and he held up an index finger to his lips.

At first, the voices sounded too muffled to make any sense, but soon they dissolved into something more audible. "What is this? I thought we were done for the day?"

"Relax, Riffkin. They probably found those intruders and lifted the lockdown."

With a sudden deceleration, the sentinel came to a stop and Caitrin held her breath.

"Don't you think Control would have told us about that?"

The other worker snorted, sounding much closer than Caitrin wanted. "Since when did Control bother to tell us anything?"

Riffkin laughed. "Let's just make sure Gapper knows. He's been itching to get out of here."

On the compad screen, the image of an older man that carried most of his weight around his mid section appeared, holding a scanning device. Caitrin could clearly read 'James Riffkin' off of his ID badge. He vanished from view and a soft beep could be heard. "Huh. More ASGM's. Shorty, you want to shelf these or prep 'em for transport?"

"What's the lot number?" Shorty asked.

"755 and 756."

Shorty came into view on screen, looking very similar to Riffkin but fittingly smaller in stature. He was holding up a small compad, glancing over a list. "Why the hell are these here? They should have been sent to Storage D."

"So . . . shelf 'em?" Riffkin murmured the question.

"Yeah, for now." Shorty chuckled. "We'll let Gapper deal with them. I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

Riffkin rubbed his left hand over his rotund belly. "Me too. Let me send these load lifters on their way and we can ask Gapper about heading down to the Mess Hall."

With a jolt of motion, the crates were once again moving. Caitrin breathed a sigh of relief and watched the compad screen. The sentinels traveled up and away towards a never-ending section of shelving that reached to the top of the warehouse ceiling. After a few nauseating turns, they were plopped down at a row's end, roughly five meters off the ground. The sentinel's visual feed was cut off, plunging the interior of the crate into total darkness.

A second later, Killian's whispered voice came through the comm. "Stand by. I'm scanning the area." After a few more seconds, he spoke again. "We're clear."

Morcant jimmied the lock open and slowly lifted the lid. He had only raised it half a meter till the lid banged against the underside of the upper shelf. He had enough sense not to swear out loud and bite his tongue. He more or less rolled out of the crate.

Caitrin followed suit when Morcant's hand popped the lid open again. She duplicated his maneuver and fell right on top of him. His breath left him until Caitrin could prop herself up on her hands. "Sorry," she mouthed, smiling down at him. She quickly took survey of her surroundings and tried to get a sense of her location. Currently, she and her husband were wedged in the tiny space between their crate and Maya's. She looked up and saw the towering shelving across from their own and realized the small image on the compad screen did little justice to the enormity of the warehouse.

Morcant grabbed her at the waist and twisted both of them on their sides. He gave her a quick kiss on the lips and pushed himself farther forward so his head poked out into the empty space between the rows of shelves. He tapped the other crate with his knuckles and soon Maya's head appeared two meters down on his right. He waved, then pointed to the ground.

Getting to the warehouse floor proved difficult at first. Caitrin had to hop back into the crate while Morcant sat precariously on the edge of the shelf, hoping to avoid the ten-meter drop all at once. He lowered himself down to the next level, using another crate as a foothold, and tapped the crate Caitrin was in to signal her turn.

Caitrin never had a fear of heights, but the need for stealth made the descent a little unnerving. The four of them reached the bottom without mishap and they hurried to the end of the row, stepping as lightly as possible.

Maya turned and faced Killian. "Find us somewhere quiet."

His compad held in his hand, Killian pointed to an open section along the back of the warehouse. It was a low-ceilinged break area, complete with a kitchenette and bathrooms. "Scans show negative for anyone in there."

Maya moved on ahead, already making the decision to head into the break room. She quickly disappeared through the swinging door labeled "Women."

Caitrin let a smile tug at the side of her mouth. _Here we are, deep inside an Insurrectionist stronghold, and we're stopping for a restroom break_. She shrugged and realized she might as well go too. "You boys be quick okay?" she said over her shoulder. When she flung the door open she saw a very clean, brightly-lit bathroom complete with lockers and several showers.

Maya was already breaking open a locker when she snapped her head up. She spied Caitrin already unfastening her belt and frowned. "Oh, you have to go?"

Caitrin blushed. "Don't you?"

Smiling, Maya popped the lock off of the locker and reached inside. "Yeah, but we need to change into something that doesn't say 'here I am, come get me.' " She tossed a pair of coveralls to Caitrin who caught them in return. "After you're done, suit up."

* * *

Feeling much better internally, Caitrin couldn't help but contrast the itchiness of her new duds with her recent relief. She secured a cap on her head as she stood in front of the mirror beside Maya. "Well?" she asked, holding her hands out.

Maya, wearing the same warehouse uniform but a size too small, shrugged. "Just keep your brim low and try not to talk." She tried uselessly to fasten a button across her chest and gave up. Instead, she pulled a pair of gloves from a deep thigh pocket and put them on, mostly to conceal her wound rather than making a fashion statement.

Caitrin raised an eyebrow. "You want to trade uniforms?"

Laughing lightly, Maya shook her head. "No, I actually think this might play to our advantage." She turned to face Caitrin. "How do I look?"

Choosing her words carefully, Caitrin smiled as she remembered Maya's strut down the main corridor of _Emissary_ with nothing on but a towel. "You really like the seductive look."

"Well I wouldn't say that I _like_ it." Maya gave her a predatory smile. "But I'm not afraid to use it when it's needed."

"Right."

When Maya and Caitrin did emerge from the restroom, they found Killian and Morcant tucked away in a dark corner of the break area, patiently waiting for the two women.

Killian's face turned a shade redder, but he quickly composed himself. "All clear. They must all be waiting at the front entrance." He tilted his head towards Morcant. "So when are we getting our disguises?"

Morcant shook his head. "We're too well know around here, I'm afraid." He nodded to Maya. "So you two sneak us out of here while we ride in the back?"

"More or less," Maya informed. "Three, you have the location of the cargo transports?"

"Yeah," he said, "but I'm having a hard time figuring out how to generate a freight order." He motioned in the direction of the small motor pool located to their right and they started walking. "I don't want to raise any red flags by making one out of thin air."

Morcant frowned. "Is there already one scheduled?"

Killian flipped through the list on his compad. "There is one already on standby, but with the base-wide lockdown, nothing's moving."

A smile spread across Maya's face. "Queue the one on standby." She ran her fingers through her hair. "I'll get us through."

Caitrin pursed her lips, feeling uneasy. "I know what you're thinking, so just be careful. These warehouse guys might seem a little dense, but I bet they follow procedure to a T."

Once they reached the short row of vehicles chained up in the motor pool, Morcant quickly found the one queued for transport. "Three and I will ride in the back." One, if they confront you about your cargo just say it's urgent, high-priority stuff. I'm sure Three's editing of the freight order will suffice to get us out of the warehouse, but we might have to improvise later."

All nodded in compliance.

Morcant and Killian climbed into the covered back of the transport, and awkwardly wedged themselves between the bed's actual commodity. Caitrin caught a quick glimpse of Killian entering more keystrokes into his compad as she shut the steel doors.

As Maya fired up the engine, Caitrin hopped in beside her in the passenger seat. "They're in," she informed her driver.

"Let's hope this works."

Maya didn't waste any time or discreteness as she steered the vehicle towards the exit.

As they approached the point of no return, Caitrin could see several workers sitting on crates and others immersed in some sort of card game using a larger crate as a table. All of them looked bored beyond belief when they turned to face the inbound truck.

A worker, who Caitrin recognized as Riffkin, waved Maya to a stop and came up to the driver side window. "What are you doing? No one is allowed to leave . . . " He trailed off when Maya turned to face him, her eyes fluttering in flirtation. "Well, hello there," Riffkin said in a cool voice. "Going somewhere?"

"Only where to where I'm told."

Riffkin smiled. "What's the rush?"

Maya shrugged and handed him the manifest list from off the dashboard. "Priority routing from Control. Want to get a head start before everyone starts yelping about delays."

Raising his eyebrows, he gave the list a casual glance, and Caitrin noticed how he tried to suck in his gut. "How come I haven't see you around here before?" he challenged.

Maya leaned out the window and gripped his ID badge with thumb and forefinger. "We're from Warehouse A, temp transfer," she said, almost too soft to be heard. "But I hope coming here will turn into something more permanent," Maya purred.

Riffkin chuckled and propped his forearms on the window frame of the door, handing Maya back the manifest list. "Well, if you want to leave, you better talk to Gapper."

"Yeah, I've heard how he can get. Where is he?"

The heavyset man snorted once and reeled back off the door, giving the shocks a workout. "He's in his office, all cozy and warm." He poked a thumb towards a door over his shoulder. "Good luck."

"Oh, I don't need luck," Maya responded, slowly opening the truck door. "I've got everything I need."

Riffkin held on to the window frame, smiling all the while. "Yes, you do."

Caitrin watched Maya strut to Gapper's office door, turning every head in sight. Riffkin slowly brought the door back to a closed position, keeping his eyes on Maya, and Caitrin quickly slumped in her seat and feigned sleep. _If they realize both transfers are women, they might get even more suspicious_.

"So who are . . ." Riffkin cut off his inquiry. "Hey, I'm talking to you."

Caitrin held a finger up to her lips. "Shh," she stalled. _C'mon, Maya. Hurry up_.

"Hey, Riffkin!"

"What, Shorty?" Riffkin grumbled, stepping away from the vehicle.

"Who was that that walked into Gapper's office?" Shorty asked, momentarily abandoning his card game.

"I don't know, some temporary transfer from A." Riffkin scratched his belly. "But I bet Gapper really doesn't care."

Caitrin dug herself deeper in her seat and tried to quell the ice storm in her stomach.

It was a full eight minutes before Maya finally appeared in the office doorway. She looked as if she was talking to someone inside as she leaned against the doorframe. With a stuttered creak, the large double doors parted for their exit and Maya was again in motion, shutting the office door behind her. She moved past Riffkin who was standing near a conversation group and brushed a gloved hand over his chest. "I wouldn't bother talking to Gapper for a while. He'll need some time to recover."

Struggling to keep her jaw from dropping, Caitrin straightened up when Maya got in the vehicle. She watched her squadmate through half-disappointing eyes. "Was that really necessary?" she asked quietly, purposely leaving out the specifics of the question.

Maya put the truck in gear and they started moving forward. Keeping a smile on her face, she waved to the "fellow" workers. Various hoots and hollers were thrown her way, but the noise died quickly when they exited the warehouse and entered the cargo route. Once out of sight, Maya's expression shifted to a mask of bitterness. "It was necessary, Two. It got us through, didn't it?"

Caitrin knew that some operatives would go to any length, even as far as bending their morals, to achieve their mission's ends. But she never pegged Maya as a "loose" woman.

They sat there in silence till Caitrin turned in her seat. "Are you okay?"

Keeping here eyes on the two-lane path, Maya shrugged. She took her left hand off the wheel and tugged her glove free as she bit the end of one of the fingers. Her previously undamaged hand was now showing red knuckles. "Gapper's jaw must be synthetic. It took me two good swipes before he went down." She let a smile spread across her face and winked at Caitrin. "C'mon. I've got a little more class than you think."

Caitrin frowned inquisitively. "But why did it take you so long to get our of there if you didn't really sleep with him?"

"To make those dull-headed warehouse guys _think_ we were." She shook her head and flexed her fingers on both hands. "You give a guy the idea of sleeping with someone and they'll jump to all sorts of conclusions."

Caitrin snorted. "You really know how to play the seductive part."

"Yes, I do," Maya said with a playful tone. She called over her right shoulder through the tiny window at the cab's rear, "you boys hold on back there and we'll get you delivered right on time."


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

"Make a left up here."

Maya nodded and cranked the steering wheel over, following Killian's instructions from over the comm. He was acting as an unseen navigator, remaining hidden in the back of the truck bed. Their route to the staging area was taking longer than Caitrin had hoped, but Killian's winding course through the base kept them out of direct contact with any personnel.

Caitrin felt as if they were walking into a lion's den, knowing full well that their destination would be ripe with activity. She took her eyes off the dimly lit tunnel and once again studied the schematic of the staging area. It was, for all intents and purposes, an aircraft hangar, but with its sheer size and footprint, you could land a destroyer without even scrapping the paint. What made it interesting were the dozen launch tubes branching off at the far end of the hangar. The four tubes in the middle were double the size of the outer ones, but until Caitrin and the others were actually inside the staging area they didn't know the larger tubes' purpose. Maya had speculated it was for arriving aircraft, but Morcant had his doubts.

"Make another left up here," Killian whispered. "Follow that path for 532 meters, and then Loading Dock 14 will be on our right."

"Copy." Maya turned her head toward Caitrin, keeping her eyes on the road for a few more seconds. "You remember the plan?"

Caitrin nodded. "Yep. Let you do all the talking," she laughed nervously. "I don't know, Maya. Do you really think they'll just let us cart this stuff right in?"

"Three's work on the manifest should hold up. Though if they really wanted to run the numbers we might be in a tight spot." Maya reached over and patted Caitrin on the knee. "Don't worry, you know how good I am at improv."

"I don't think a plunging neckline can convince hardened security to let us in," Caitrin said frankly.

"True." Maya reached back over the seat and started feeling around the squashed space. "See if you can find a jacket or something back there."

Caitrin turned around in her seat, placed her weight on her knees, and rummaged through the various objects of trash and whatever else the warehouse guys had thrown back behind the seat. Her hand felt fabric and she hauled it up over the benched seat. She placed the discolored reflector vest in Maya lap and wafted the acrid smell away. "There you go, fresh out of the dryer."

"Uck!" Maya's face scrunched up as she caught a full whiff from the vest. "You expect me to wear this?" She rolled down the driver side window and held the vest outside, shaking a few loose items of trash out with it. Maya threw it back inside to land on Caitrin's face.

Caitrin quickly peeled the nasty article of clothing off of her and tossed it on the seat between them. "You _need_ to wear it, cause there's no way I'm swapping uniforms with you."

"Fine." Maya reluctantly put the reflector vest on one arm at a time, disgusted the entire time. But the vest did zip up far enough to conceal her rather revealing uniform. "There," she said, holding her breath long enough to crane her neck out the window and inhale. "Happy?"

"No, just amused."

"You would be." Maya sat up tall in her seat and roller her neck from side to side. "Get into character. It's showtime."

Clearing her mind, Caitrin settled into her role of wearing a bored expression of disinterest.

Up ahead, a large overhanging light illuminated the loading dock where three armed men stood at a small guard post. The heavy metal doors were open, but a mobile, knee-high barrier blocked any passage. One gruff-looking guard marched up to the window and took the manifest list from Maya's hand without as much as a greeting. He ran it through a scanner and waited for a response from the device. He tapped his fingers along the edge of the scanner, an obvious nervous habit, and when it finally gave an affirmative chime, he handed the list back to Maya.

"Thanks," Maya said as casual as possible.

The guard remained where he was and Caitrin could see his nose wrinkle. He cleared his throat and bent down to look inside the cab of the truck. "You two smell something?"

"Nope," Maya answered.

"Hey," another guard said, walking up to stand beside the one with the scanner. "You going to be helping out with the unloading?" he asked, pointing to Maya.

Maya shrugged. "You guys need the help?"

The second guard frowned. "Well you are wearing a vest, so you must be scheduled to unpack these things, right?" His face turned into a sour expression. "What's that smell?"

Maya kicked the truck in gear and smiled to the two guards. "Yeah, we're both unloading."

From the guard post, the remaining armed man flipped a switch and the barrier retracted off to the right. "Hold on," he belted over the noise of the grinding metal. Caitrin tensed, but the guard merely bent down and tossed Maya an extra reflector vest. "Gives me an excuse not to help out later. Control has been hounding everyone to get this latest batch moving, so I'll gladly sit out."

The other two guards snorted to each other as Maya moved the vehicle passed the security checkpoint. Maya let out a hissing breath through her teeth, and Caitrin relaxed tense muscles.

Docking Bay 14 was nothing more than a shipping kiosk and a giant octagonal slab painted with a yellow border. But it did open up into the expansive hangar and Caitrin sat gape-mouthed at its size. She wondered how in the world they were still underground when Maya answer her puzzlement for her.

"We must be under a mountain range," Maya commented. "This place must reach 500 meters tall, easily." She pointed to the multiple hatched tubes at the far end of the hangar. "That's where we're headed."

Caitrin keyed her comm that she had tucked inside her cap. "You guys stay quiet," she whispered. "We'll let you know when were clear to move."

A double click over the comm was Killian's silent acknowledgement of the order.

Maya snaked a path through the outlying docking bays, and most workers were too busy to stop and question a cargo truck with a perceived purpose. The docking bays all had a 50-meter tall blast wall that protected the unloading handlers from the test-firing of Backsword engines. Though the pungent smell of exhaust somehow managed to curl over the blast walls and slither into the truck's cab through Maya's open window. Caitrin realized she'd rather smell the nastiness of Maya vest. She looked over to her female driver and found Maya wearing a look of bewilderment.

Feeling Caitrin's eyes, Maya shook her head minutely. "Um, where exactly are we suppose to go?"

"The launch tubes, of course . . ." Caitrin trailed off when she realized the emptiness of their plans. They had gotten as far as their goal: the launch tubes; but they didn't really have any way to disrupt them or destroy them. "I see." She felt a wave a tiredness wash over her. "Well, now what?"

They were nearing the end of the long row of docking bays, the farthest labeled "36", and amazingly found it vacant. Even the multiple angled floodlights were off, plunging the corner in relative darkness. Maya pulled the truck up to the kiosk and shut the engine off.

Caitrin quickly got out and deactivated the shipping kiosk to limit any unwanted sights or sounds. She circled back around to meet Maya at the rear of the vehicle. Maya pulled off her vest as Caitrin opened the double doors. Morcant and Killian emerged drenched in sweat, but happy to be out of the small confines of the truck bed.

After receiving an inquisitive glare from both men, Maya chucked her vest in the back of the truck and shut the doors. She wiped her hands off on the pants of her jumpsuit and shivered. "Okay, so we're here now . . ." she said, waving her hand for Morcant to continue.

Morcant wiped the sweat from his brow off on his sleeve and frowned. "Well, I didn't—" he cut himself off when he looked over Maya's shoulder. "Holy sh—"

Caitrin spun reflexively on her left heel, preparing for a confrontation, but once she saw what her husband did, she too stood in shock.

Being an unused docking bay, the blast wall had been lowered and the opening allowed for a complete panoramic view of the entire hangar. The staging area was broken up into three sections, the largest containing countless rows of Backsword fighters. The center section was littered with mechanics and their tool carts, working on more aircraft in various stages of construction. At the far end was a collection of crates full of assembly parts and armaments for the Backswords.

Caitrin's gaze swept back over the fully assembled fighters and let out a whistle. "They're not kidding around, are they?"

"Nope," Killian muttered. "If they have this many ready for deployment, they could launch at any time."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Maya said, turning to face Killian. "I take it you can't just disable the outer hatches on all of those tunnels."

Killian shrugged. "Well, with Donagh's help, we probably could do it." He glanced over at Morcant. "But if we plan on getting out of here, I could probably rig up a time-release on a particular launch tube. It would definitely be detected, but by then we would already be on our way out."

Morcant walked up to Maya and kept his voice low. "Have you had pilot training before?"

Caitrin half expected Maya to blurt out some wise-guy answer, but she simply shrugged. "I've ran the sims before. Never crashed anything, though." She lifted her chin slightly. "You think we ought to fly ourselves out of here?"

Nodding, Morcant slapped the back of his hand off of Killian's arm. "Can you tap into their prep lists? By that I mean identify the makes and models of those fighters out there? Preferably ones with a slipspace drive. Maybe even see if you can download a schematic."

Caitrin's brow creased when she imagined her husband's plan. "You can fly one of these things?"

Morcant gave her a lopsided grin. "Probably."

"Okay, I've got something." Killian held out his compad. "The first three rows of fighters are ready to go. Last maintenance check was two standard hours ago." He pointed to the next two rows behind the front lines. "These are their long-range fighters, a variant of the B-680. Their armament is mostly those ASGM's, not really made for dog fighting, but they do have an FTL drive on board."

"Perfect." Morcant looked up and out across the vast array of Backswords, noting their destination. "What about the launch tunnels themselves? I assume they're activated by Docking Control?"

Killian sighed. "Unfortunately, yes. I won't be able to hack into that network without being detected." He looked down towards the ground, dejection in his eyes. "But Donagh probably could," he said more hopefully.

_Probably_, Caitrin thought. _It seems to be the Word of the Day_.

Morcant gave the boy a frown. "Can you at least get us past any security on the Backswords themselves?" He pointed to the two nearest slipspace-capable fighters. "We'll take the two on the end."

Killian shrugged. "Yeah, that's fairly simple. I'll queue them up for an early maintenance check." He started entering the record into his compad for a quick uplink.

"So I take it my first aerial engagement will be today?" Maya asked, her question sounding more like a statement. She stole a roll of the eyes toward Killian. "And I take it we'll be using the usual team assignment?"

"I've flown in simulators," Killian spoke up, temporarily lifting his eyes off the compad screen. "I could help pilot one of these things."

"There you go. Match made in heaven," Caitrin murmured. That got a glare from the other woman.

Morcant nodded. "Sounds good, though I prefer you handle the stick," he said, gesturing to Maya.

"We're good to move on those Backswords now," Killian said, packing up his things but keeping his compad tucked under his left arm.

"Alright then." Morcant checked the silenced SMG's clip once more. "Follow me."

They moved as one, silently and steadily towards the nearest fighter. Morcant kept them hugging the outer edge of the hangar floor, right along the other sides of the blast walls. The ambient noise increased steadily, helping mask any footsteps they generated. As they loomed closer to their target, Caitrin could see a short ramp extending down from the stern of the ship. Taking a final visual sweep, Morcant took three long strides to enter the Backsword. The other three followed with Maya bringing up the rear.

Inside the fighter, Caitrin immediately felt cramped. The small cargo area was really nothing more than a foyer to the corridor that ran the length of the ship. She walked to the cockpit where Morcant and Maya were already familiarizing themselves with the controls. Caitrin stepped past Killian to poke her head through the doorway. She could see the control board coming online, wirelessly interfacing with Killian's compad for the right access code, and prayed to God this would work.

The controls all flashed red for a split second before dimming out completely. Morcant snapped his head around and gave the youth a demanding look. All Killian did was nod his head at the central display. Morcant turned back around and found the console's main screen read: Standby. "We're in," he whispered with a grin. "Take One over and get the other fighter prepped. And keep it quiet."

Maya got up from the co-pilot seat and squeezed past Caitrin, who in turn took the older woman's place. Caitrin looked out the forward viewport and noticed the charcoal gray mass of the next fighter in line taking up most of her view. "They pack these in here pretty tightly."

"Which will make takeoff more difficult," Morcant muttered. "They probably do this to keep their pilots sharp." He traced his hands over the surface of the console, as if recalling where to place them. "I just hope One can make it up and out okay."

Caitrin looked to her left, past her husband, and out the port-side viewport to see Maya and Killian examining their own fighter's controls. Caitrin made eye contact with Maya and gave her a questioning thumb up. Maya just shrugged.

"We need to do everything in tandem. It wouldn't do us any good for one to light up and lift off while the other is still stranded on the ground." Morcant searched the console and pointed to a row of switches. "Patch the comm channel the boy rigged up and feed it through to the cockpit's comm unit."

It took Caitrin a few seconds to dial the request in, but soon enough the comm crackled to life. "One, how are you doing over there?"

"Just dandy. We're, ah . . . we're ready."

"Good." Morcant furrowed his brow. "Three, have you figured out how to shut down those launch tubes?"

There was a brief pause, then a frustrated sigh. "Not without completely giving off the mother of all alerts. I can disable them, but Control can just override any command within a few seconds."

The cockpit comm remained silent as Morcant drummed his fingers on the console's surface. He glanced over at Caitrin and frowned. "One?" he called to Maya.

"We have no choice," Maya breathed. "We need Donagh to get us out of here."

Morcant worked his jaw for a long moment. "Retract your ramp by using the battery backup. We don't want to start the reactors till we're ready to make our presence known." He sighed loudly. "Three, contact Donagh and get to it." He leaned back in his chair and absently fastened the restraints.

Caitrin pulled her own restraints over her shoulders, clicking the latch across her stomach and chest, and listened to the subtle sound of hydraulics pulling the ramp up and closed. With a soft click, the cabin began to seal, locking in its own atmosphere and making Caitrin's ears pop. She reached her left hand over and rested it upon Morcant's poised hand as he gripped the flight stick. "It will be alright. We'll get out of here."

Her husband brought her hand up and kissed the back of it. "I wish I shared your optimism."

From the comm unit, a familiar voice crackled. "Ah, Mr. Mahlon, it is good to hear from you again. It was unwise to drop off the grid like that. I recommend we maintain contact at all times."

For once, Killian was straightforward with his words to Donagh. "Look, we need you to shut down all of the launch tubes in the hangar save for one."

When there was no immediate reply, Caitrin's gut began to grow cold. She frowned and keyed the comm. "Donagh--"

"It is done."

Even through the thickness of the cockpit viewports, Caitrin could hear the launch tubes mechanically lock. She craned her neck forward, looking over the fuselage of the fighter in front of them, and saw the faint red glow appear around the edges of every tube.

All but one. And that centrally-located launch door was ponderously opening up to the tunnel beyond. Retracting into the forward hangar wall, the giant metal door rumbled open.

"That's it," Morcant said, pointing to their exit. "Three fire up your reactor and get moving." He matched words with action and the Backsword's engine thrummed to life. "Donagh, keep those other tubes locked, you hear?"

"Is there anything else you require?" the Advisor asked, his clipped accent distorting the comm.

"Nope." Outside, standing directly in front of their fighter, appeared a mechanic in coveralls waving his arms in the air. Morcant held a hand to his ear, like he couldn't hear the man yelling loud enough, and fired the maneuvering thrusters. The Backsword rose up, and Caitrin quickly lost sight of the mechanic below. The roar of the engine was complimented with the sounds of small arms fire striking the ship's keel.

"Morcant!" Caitrin yelled. She didn't know how strong starfighter armor was, but knew that any luck shot into a delicate portion of the fuselage could spell instant disaster.

He swung the nose around towards the source of the attack and spotted the gathering crowd of security personnel. Bullets sparked off the viewports, but Morcant keyed something on the console.

There was a loud thud at Caitrin's feet, more felt than heard, and Morcant squeezed down on the flight stick's trigger. The hangar lit up with the sustained barrage from the under-slung cannon, sending deadly, large caliber rounds toward the enemy line. Caitrin winced at the brightness, and through squinted eyes she saw people diving for cover as Morcant swept destruction back and forth. She turned her head to the right, trying to look away from the chaos, but found Maya in the other fighter's cockpit raining down her own stream of fire.

Morcant gained more altitude and drifted off to the left, gaining a little more room between his fighter and Maya's. "Hold on!" He began tracking a half dozen weapon-wielding guards running for cover under the wing of a Backsword, and Caitrin realized that that was their undoing. When Morcant raked a barrage along the spine of the fighter, the shelter they sought erupted in a fiery ball of heated metal and ceramic debris. Morcant let up off the trigger, noticing the cannon was building up too much heat, and Caitrin watched to see if the explosion would set off a chain reaction.

It didn't, but it did clear the area to just a handful of frightened and dazed mechanics.

Maya had likewise ceased her firing and Morcant leaned forward to catch a reassuring nod from the fellow pilot. Maya circled her finger in the air. "All clear."

Caitrin clutched the arms of her seat. "Okay, now let's go."

Suddenly, the lights in the enormous hangar dimmed considerably, and a large projected image popped up on the side of the far-most wall. The blurry image and shifting shape against the enormous, gray wall made Caitrin's stomach nearly come out through her abdomen.

"It would be unwise to continue down the path you have chosen," Donagh's voice echoed through the hangar. "More will die needlessly."

Shock filled her heart and Caitrin felt utterly sick. _How could he just betray us like that? He was just helping us!_

Beside her, Morcant swore and turned their ship back around to face a now closing blast door. "Maya, punch it!" He slammed the throttle forward, pinning both of them back in their seats, and steered towards their rapidly diminishing exit. "Go, go, go!"

A short burst of static came through the comm. "Acceleration at this rate is not recommended inside such a facility," Donagh said, sounding like his normal computing self.

"_What_?!" Caitrin blurted out.

"Kill the feed, Three!" Morcant ordered. He leveled the Backsword out as the distance to the launch tube closed to a few hundred meters.

Donagh was starting up another rant about staying in contact, when Killian cut him off and said, "done." His voice sounded full of anger and confusion. _Much like how we're all feeling_.

The two fighters bolted for the narrow opening like two threatened avians as Maya pulled up beside Morcant's fighter. "We're not going to make it," she said, repeating it several times.

Gritting his teeth, Morcant shook his head. "Push it, we'll make it!"

Caitrin wanted to close her eyes, but knew that if they were going to hit any portion of the lip, door, or slide railing, it would be a quick death. _Either way, I'm going to scream_. At the top of her lungs, she let loose and was surprised to hear her husband join in.

With what must have been centimeters to spare, the two Backswords cleared the closing blast door and entered the spacious launch tube. Caitrin's fearful scream turned into a shout of joy, while Morcant just stopped yelling and breathed a few lungfuls of air.

Nervous laughter could be heard over the comm and Maya slid her fighter to the left to share the room in the unlit tunnel. Both Backswords dropped their speed from insanity to near insanity as the blast door slammed shut behind them, plunging them in total darkness. Automatically, running lights flickered to life in the rounded corners of the tube and guided them safely along. The tunnel quickly dipped and then straightened out.

Caitrin leaned forward when she saw a mist forming in the near distance. "Um, what is that?"

"Morcant, what do we do?" Maya asked impatiently, bringing the speed of her aircraft down even more.

"Don't worry," Killian interjected. "It's just water vapor."

"What?" Caitrin said. "Oh, wait. I get it." She smiled when she realized the nature of the launch tubes was not really that original. An underground hangar of that size would have to have numerous exterior features to mask its presence. But with a scenic waterfall, no one would think to hide in such an obvious nature preserve.

"Increase your speed and rotate 90 degrees, One," Morcant said, understanding Caitrin's revelation on his own. "We'll punch through it just fine."

The falling blue-green water splashed harmlessly and briefly against the hull of the fighters as Morcant led Maya through the thick of it. The bubbling river below never missed a beat and kept flowing to erase any trace of their exit through the waterfall.

"Level out and circle back around," Morcant ordered. "And stay low. We need to finish the job." He searched the weapons section of the console and began arming the ASGM missiles. The forward viewport holographically laced a grid pattern over the mountain landscape and the placement of the dozen launch tubes could be easily seen through the waterfall. "We don't have to make it pretty, just bring them down." Morcant pulled the throttle back and took aim at the leftmost tunnel. "You take the one's on the right; I'll take the one's on the left."

Morcant had his thumb ready to fire his first missile when the sensor board chimed a negative tone.

"Too late," Killian said mournfully.

Caitrin instinctively looked over to the forward and rear radar readouts. Rising up from the falling rapids were four Backsword fighters.

And they were vectoring in for a pair of easy kills.


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

"Evasive!" Morcant yelled, as he pulled the flight-stick back to his chest and punched the throttle. The modified Backsword leaped up, gaining altitude rapidly, as a pair of missiles shot through the space their fighter had just occupied.

Pinned to her seat by sheer inertia, Caitrin clutched the arms of her seat. "This is not going to be fun, is it?"

"Just hold on," Morcant replied. He rolled the fighter over on its left and leveled out in a long loop down towards the source of the near miss. The two enemy Backswords each fired off another missile as Morcant triggered the rotary cannon. The stuttered thumps from the small rounds of the cannon sounded like a sped-up drum beat to Caitrin. Morcant stopped down on the right rudder pedal, swinging his ship out of the missiles' vector, and raked his line of fire into the paths of the oncoming craft.

Seeing that their quick-fire tactic had not paid off, the enemy ships veered away, both turning opposite ways to avoid the cannon's rounds. Morcant immediately armed his ASGMs and sent four missiles at the four leftmost tunnels. Caitrin could tell he was firing blindly, hoping to prevent spending too much attention away from his pursuit. The projectiles punctured through the falling water and impacted just inside the lip of the four tunnels. Orange fire blasted through the unseen holes and was instantly extinguished by the waterfall. The mist intensified around the area, blanketing it with vapor and smoke, but the damage was done.

Caitrin was able to catch a glimpse of two more ASGMs strike the two center launch tubes, but the source of the missiles was way off to her right. She craned her neck forward then leaned back to look out the side viewport to see if she could spot Maya's fighter, but Morcant had pulled them to the left and kicked the throttle up once more. The engine whined in protest at the treatment, but gave the fighter the much-needed boost.

"Hey, hey! One got a couple fighters in her barrage," Morcant exclaimed, briefly checking the sensor readouts.

"Wow." Caitrin checked the visuals and could see two flamed and charred Backswords blast through the waterfall, tumbling through the air. The central tunnels were completely collapsed and large chunks of rock began plummeting to the river below. "That should take care of the largest launch tubes," she informed her husband, as she watched the rubble pile up, making the largest tunnels impassible.

Morcant curled his craft downward, attempting to line up a quick shot at an enemy fighter still looping around, but his cannon rounds just peppered the outer edges of the Backswords' right wing. Morcant inverted their fighter and tried to stick with his target, but the enemy ship banked left to regroup with his wingman. Again, he swung the Backsword's nose around and fired off four more ASGMs at the remaining launch tubes.

Caitrin realized it was a tough shot, given their angle might have been too far off to the left, but her husband's aim was true and the missiles arrived at their destination simultaneously. Ardent fire spewed out through the gushing water, as if battling with the waterfall itself, and the last of the launch tubes buckled and bowed under the crippling explosions.

"That did it," Maya announced over the comm. "Three, I can't shake my two shadows over here."

"Copy that, One," Morcant said through clenched teeth, as he threw the Backsword into another spinning dive. "Come about on heading 243."

"Umm, what?"

"Turn left," he clarified. Morcant started to pull their ship out of the dive when the upper canopy of the forest filled the front viewport.

Caitrin noticed little fires burning below but soon realized that the bright glows on the trees were from the sustaining barrage of rotary cannon fire from their two pursuers. She opened her mouth to yell, but Morcant hit the left rudder pedal, sending them on a new, gut-wrenching vector parallel to the treetops. Caitrin was tossed to the side and tried to support her weight against the right bulkhead with an outstretched hand.

"Set your ASGMs for manual detonation," Morcant ordered.

"Uh . . .what?" Maya said, puzzled.

"I'll get them ready," Killian butted in. "What's the plan?"

Morcant's fighter swooped around in a long curve, bobbing up and down all the way. "When we come about to face one another, arm a pair of missiles and launch them at me. I'll do the same, but don't evade or detonate till my command. Otherwise we'll be dead."

"You want me to fire at _you_?"

"It'll work," Killian said with a new enthusiasm.

Caitrin nodded and knew they only had one shot at this. If their gambit of blind firing at the enemy didn't work, then the possibility of going to ground was their only real option. She looked over to her husband as sweat dripped down his face, and she held on for dear life.

Their Backsword gained more altitude and adjusted to Maya's improvisational heading. At their current speeds, they would have to be quick about maneuvering out of the missiles' way.

"One . . . Fire!" Morcant ordered and pressed the thumb switch on his flight stick. Two ASGMs rode on trails of golden flame, streaking towards Maya and Killian's ship. Likewise, they had two incoming. The cockpit lit up with warning lights and klaxons blaring, and Morcant gritted his teeth. "Evasive!"

Morcant pulled the fight stick to his chest for all he was worth, and the pair of missiles from Maya's Backsword flashed past bare meters below their own ship's keel. "Detonate!" he yelled, pressing the dual switch on the console.

Caitrin's body snapped forward as the explosion buckled their ship. Different warning lights were now washing the interior of the cockpit in red and she could feel the Backsword shudder uncontrollably.

Morcant fought with the controls for all he was worth, struggling to bring order out of complete chaos. He turned hard to port and Caitrin caught a brief glimpse of the other midair explosion. Their risky maneuver had paid off, and both of Maya and Killian's pursuers were tumbling down to the forest canopy, awash in flame. She just prayed the same was true for their two shadows.

"One, do you copy?" Caitrin said into the comm. Searching the skies and the now-cracked sensor screen.

"I'm here," Maya answered shakily. "My sensors show negative for hostiles."

"What's your status?" Morcant asked, as he cut the sounding alarms and leveled out their Backsword.

"No significant damage. We took some shrapnel in the blast but nothing too serious. How 'bout you?"

Caitrin turned her head to see her husband frowning. His fingers raced over the console and diagnostic data spilled out over the main screen. "Not good. We have a hydraulic leak in the starboard flaps and our rudder won't be able to take anymore hard turns." He paused and inclined his ear to listen to a high-pitched squeal.

Searching for the source, Caitrin looked up along the upper portions on the cockpit to see a growing crack in the hull. It was branching out like the roots of a tree and gave her a figurative punch in the stomach. "We're venting pressure and lots of it."

"What do you mean?" asked Killian.

Morcant sighed through his teeth. "We can't breach the planet's atmosphere without a proper cabin seal, let alone jump into slipspace." He flipped a few overhead switches and the landing gear began to lower. "We're going to ground."

"Can't you fix the leak?" Maya asked.

Caitrin glanced at Morcant who gave her a shake of the head. "It's a hull breach. Without a visit to the shipyard, we won't last much longer in the sky." He pulled up a topographical map of Andvari and let his eyes drift over the outlying areas of Milanó. "I'll find us a place to touch down."

"I'm on your wing," Maya informed, as Caitrin saw her Backsword appear off to the right.

"Negative, One. We need you to get back to Colonel Ross and tell him about all of this . . . before it's too late."

Maya made a guttural sound. "What? No, you have to come. Who will believe me?"

Morcant keyed something into the keypad and transmitted it. "Here, that's my authorization code and credentials. Get to the local outpost and tell them to bring an entire fleet if they can."

"Look I--"

"One, please do this," Morcant said, easing their fighter lower to the ground. "ONI _has_ to know what the Insurrectionists are doing here."

Maya's sigh sounded like a burst of static over the comm. "As ordered," she breathed.

"Be careful, One," Caitrin said, feeling tears forming in her eyes. "And be safe."

"You too," Maya answered with a slight thickness to her voice. She cleared her throat and sniffed once. "We'll be back."

Caitrin held up a hand to the starboard-side viewport, a final goodbye to a departing friend.

Morcant reached over and took her hand in his. "Cait, they'll be alright. This area is void of any aerial defense towers, so they should reach hard vacuum untouched."

"No, it's not that." She turned her head to face him and tightened her grip on his hand. "Maya has been such a good friend to me ever since I set out to find you. She opened up to me about her personal life, things I could tell she hadn't shared with anyone before . . ." She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "I just got you back from the grave, and I don't want to lose any one else."

Her husband smile confidently. "Then you won't." He gave her hand a final squeeze and returned his attention to the improvised landing sequence.

"Right," Caitrin agreed, trying to match Morcant's tone. She sat up in her copilot's chair and felt her spine crack. "So where to?" she asked, searching the nighttime landscape.

"Well, someplace away from here; they'll be combing through this entire area by sunrise." He pointed to a bright spot on the horizon. "So we'll head to the place where they least expect us."

Caitrin squinted her eyes, hoping to see something that could be classified as dark, secluded, and quiet. Her mouth dropped open when a familiar city rose up into view. "Wait, we're going back to Milanó?"

Morcant nodded. "It's the last place they'll look."

"Because it's the last place we should go," Caitrin replied matter-of-factly.

Her husband sighed and killed the Backsword's forward momentum. "Look, Cait. Andvari is on the brink of becoming the newest battlefield for an Insurrectionist rebellion. There are innocent people here that will get caught up in the frenzy to follow, and I, for one, want to do anything I can to prevent that from happening."

He lowered the thrusters' output and they slowly sank to the ground. As the trees rose up around them, branches snapped off and creaked under the weight of the ship. They landed on the mossy ground with a thud that rocked the ship and had them tilted slightly to the right. Morcant quickly powered down the fighter and the cockpit was suddenly plunged into darkness.

"Cait, I'm sorry I dragged you into this," Morcant apologized softly. "I never should have--"

"It's okay," Caitrin soothed, removing her restraints. "If I never came here, you would probably still be incarcerated."

He laughed lightly and unlatched his own restraints. "You're probably right."

Caitrin stood and reached out into the darkness to find her husband. Her hand met his chest and she wrapped him in a tight embrace. "Morcant, I'm just glad to have you back." She pulled her head back to try to see his face but was only able to see his eyes filling with moisture. I'll go anywhere with you," she breathed.

Morcant took his left hand, cradling her neck, and took his right hand to the small of her back, pressing her body against his. "I love you, Cait."

"I love you, too."

Then they were lost in a fierce kiss, taking in the moment with wild abandon. Cait pulled away to take a deep breath, smiling at their own crescendo of passion. "Guess it has been a while."

Morcant pressed her head to his chest. "Too long, indeed."

The couple rocked there, back and forth, enjoying the warmth of one another's body and the feeling of completeness. The galaxy had thrown just about everything it could to stop Caitrin from being with her husband . . . but now, here they were: locked in a physical reunion.

"Okay, we need to move," Morcant finally said, holding his wife at arm's length. "In a few hours, we're going to have Innies crawling all over this wreck."

Caitrin nodded and kissed him once more on the lips. "Lead the way."

He took her hand and led her to the storage compartment to retrieve both their weapons and equipment Caitrin had brought. She fished inside her satchel and found a pair of glowrods. "One for you, and one for me," she said playfully.

Morcant flicked his glowrod on and walked down to the boarding ramp. As expected, the ramp didn't open all the way and the hydraulics locked in place, leaving a meter clearance for them to crawl out. The two squeezed through the crack without mishap and hopped down the remaining meter to the forest floor.

Even with their glowrods' limited range, the parts of their fighter that they could see were charred, twisted, or bent out of shape. _It's a miracle we could even land this thing_, Caitrin thought to herself, shaking her head. "You know, this is twice now where I've been able to walk away from such a scene." Her husband raised an eyebrow, but she dismissed his inquiry with a wave of her hand. "Long story." She gestured out to the forest. "Which way?"

Morcant pointed off to his right. "I saw a break in the trees that way. Hopefully there's a steam or river where we can lose any pursuit."

"And where to after that?"

"There's a safe house on the outskirts of Milanó, one that my team never used." He hefted his SMG into a firm grip and start for the distant sound of running water.

Caitrin took one last look at their fighter and quickly caught up with her husband, taking nearly one and a half steps for every one of Morcant's. She kept her sidearm tucked away underneath her jacket as they made their way down to the water's edge. She knelt down on one knee and dipped a hand into the dark liquid. She caught a quick whiff of the water and realized it had that familiar, sulfuric scent. "Don't drink this stuff."

"Hmm." Morcant panned the surrounding area with a furrowed brow. "Look, over there," he said pointing off to their left.

Caitrin stood back up and turned in the same direction. There, just off shore where the water was fairly quiet was a man dressed in bright yellow overalls, casting a net off the end of his small boat. By the length and graying of his beard, she figured he was well into his later years. "How did he not hear us land?"

Morcant shrugged but kept his weapon ready at his side. "I don't know, but a boat will help us get some much-needed distance between us and the Innies that are sure to come looking." He stepped past her, his boots becoming partially submerged in the mud on the river bank, and waved a hand at the stranger.

Either the man was too preoccupied with reeling his net back in, or he just chose to ignore him.

Caitrin took two long strides back to dryer land and caught up with her husband who was now just a half dozen meters away from the boat. "Excuse me, Sir?" she tried, but the fisherman still kept his back to them. She tensed, sensing uneasiness from Morcant, and started to wonder why the old man was really here.

"Sir," Morcant said a little louder, slipping his SMG back behind him. "We could use a lift, if you're willing. We could pay you."

Perhaps it was the mention of monetary reward, but the fisherman slowly turned around and plopped the gathered, empty net in the boat, nodding in acknowledgement of their presence. "Howdy," he replied a little too loud, and his voice echoed through the trees. "You two lost?"

Morcant winced at the volume of the other's voice, but he smiled nonetheless. "We know where we're going, but transportation could get us there a lot faster," he said, pointing to the grime-coated outboard motor attached to the aft end of the boat.

The old man eyed them over and let out a short chortle. "Not from around here, are you?"

"Actually, we have a place down river," Morcant answered. "A ride would be much appreciated."

The fisherman worked his jaw for a moment. "Sure, hop in." He grabbed a long wooden rod from the boat and gave one solid push off the muddy surface under the water. "Are you two taking a late night stroll?"

Caitrin frowned at the older man. "Did you not hear our . . ." She trailed off when she caught a warning glance from her husband. _The least this guy knows the better_, Caitrin read in Morcant's eyes.

But the yellow-clad man raised an eyebrow. "Hear what, the explosions, or the landing of a ship a few minutes ago?"

Morcant pursed his lips. "Maybe neither."

The fisherman smiled as the boat slid into the muddy shore line and stopped at Morcant's feet. "I hear a lot of strange things around here. Can't be sure which is which anymore."

"Why are you out here so late in the evening?" Caitrin asked, stepping closer to her husband.

The man laughed. "You mean so early in the morning?" He waved a hand as if to dismiss his comment. "Nothing's out here anyway. All the vibrations must have caused all the fish to scatter deeper under water." He shrugged. "Might as well call it a day."

Morcant nodded to Caitrin who took the older man's outstretched hand and boarded the small boat. As expected, the fisherman's hand was rough and dry from age and occupation, but it didn't bother Caitrin to have support when the boat dipped under her added weight. She steadied herself as Morcant stepped into the boat.

Her husband took a seat on the port edge facing Caitrin who sat down on the starboard side to face him. She reckoned that Morcant wanted this seating arrangement to keep a watchful eye on their helmsman.

The old man pushed them out into the flowing waters of the river and fired up the old outboard motor. The engine coughed and sputtered a dozen times before emitting a dark cloud of smoke, but it turned eventually and sped the three on their way down stream.

As the wind brought a cooling sensation to the right side of Caitrin's face, she noticed the fisherman looking at Morcant. "You expecting trouble?" he asked her husband.

"Excuse me?" Morcant replied, dividing his attention between the shoreline and his interrogator.

Their helmsman pointed to the tip of the suppressor sticking out of Morcant's jacket. "Most folks going on a walk aren't so heavily armed."

Morcant looked down and casually pulled out the SMG, placing it in his lap. "A precaution against certain people," he replied with a slight edge to his voice.

The old man shook his head. "You don't need to worry about me, son. These eyes are old, so I can't be too sure of who I may ferry down the river."

Caitrin cracked a smile. "Thanks," she said for the both of them.

* * *

They continued on for nearly half an hour till Morcant signaled the fisherman to cut the engine. He pointed to the right bank and took a position at the bow of the boat. "Here is fine."

The old man steered them into shallow waters, against a grassy crest, and sided the boat up next to dry land.

Caitrin turned to face the fisherman and smiled. "Thank you so much. It would have taken us all night to get here." She reached into her jacket pockets to find some monetary payment, but only found the ID badge she had appropriated earlier. "I'm sorry, it seems I've misplaced my billfold." She tried the pouches attached to the sides of her pants' thighs, but came up empty. "Um. I don't think I have--"

"Don't worry about it," he said with a smile. "I'll consider a break in my daily routine as payment."

Caitrin smiled again as Morcant pulled her to shore. "Thanks again."

The fisherman waved and shoved off the crest, once more entering the current. He was wise enough not to use the motor till he was almost out of sight, down a bend in the river.

"He seemed nice," Caitrin commented, watching the ripples in the dark water subside.

Morcant shrugged. "_Seemed_, is the key word there." He crouched down and lowered himself into the water, the surface stopping at his waist. He slung the SMG over his shoulder via the strap and motioned for his wife to enter the river.

Caitrin frowned, but eased into the water, even though the coldness sent a shiver up her spine. "You had him drop us off at the opposite side, didn't you."

"We can't be too cautious," he said. "The river is wider here, so the current won't be as strong. You have enough strength left to cross?"

Caitrin rotated her right shoulder and arched her back to loosen muscle and joints. "I'll be fine."

The current, as it turned out, was stronger than they had anticipated, and by the time they had reached the other side, they were two dozen meters off their original destination. They took a quick break, catching their breath on a large stone, before moving into the rocky terrain that buffered the left side of the river.

Morcant moved with purpose, often pausing and shining a light at a pile of rocks or a patch of trees to reorient. When Caitrin felt as if her feet would burst out of her boots from swelling, Morcant stopped and pointed to a darkened area where several trees had fallen. "We're here."

"There?" she asked, following him towards the indicated spot. But as she got closer, she could see how the trees had landed on top of an old house that was the unfortunate victim of a chaotic storm. "Is it safe?"

"Of course." Morcant guided her around the back of the house where most of the walls were still in one piece, but opened up a cellar door covered by leaves and other broken branches.

Caitrin followed him in and was amazed when she didn't find the air musty but clean and dry. After looking at the sturdy stone walls and articulately-patterned wood flooring, she realized the useless first and second floors were only being made so for the appearance of the entire house to look abandoned. The basement was actually fairly spacious and contained a full bathroom, two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a decent-size living room. Most of the furniture was covered in protective plastic coating, but the kitchen looked fully stocked and clean.

Behind her, Morcant shut the cellar door and all the exterior insect noises cut off with a final thump. "Good, we still have some food here," he said moving into the kitchen area and flipping a light switch on. The basement was suddenly lit up with a soft orange glow, much akin to candlelight, and Morcant removed his satchel and weapon to place them on the counter top. "This place is completely sealed. Even motion trackers can't penetrate the shielding these walls contain." It was then that he remembered he was still dripping wet. "You want to check the shower?" he asked, removing his water-trodden boots and soaked jacket.

"You want to go first?" Caitrin asked, removing her own jacket and tugging one of the arms of her coveralls off. She bent down to untie her bootlaces, but looked up at her husband when he didn't answer. When she saw the smirk on his face she returned the expression. "What? Like what you see?" she joked. Caitrin could almost feel Morcant's gaze trace over her body, but detected admiration and not lust in his eyes.

"You look so beautiful," he breathed.

Caitrin ran a hand through her hair, sending more drops to the puddle at her feet. It was then that she looked down into her own rippling reflection and recalled the last time she was soaking wet. It was when she had come home after seeing Morcant's placard on the memorial wall. With tears welling her eyes and without a second thought, she straightened up and covered the distance to her husband in two long strides.

She kissed him fully on the mouth and they wrapped their arms around one another. Tears of joy streamed down both their faces as the weight of their previous separation evaporated off their shoulders. Morcant lifted her up off her feet and sat her down on the counter top, spilling the contents of his satchel to the kitchen floor.

Caitrin laughed and briefly pulled away from the kiss. "Hey, mister. Why don't we get cleaned up first," she suggested, kissing him on the side of his neck.

Morcant sighed a laugh. "Yeah. It's been a long time."

"I know."

He took her hands in his and kissed them. "I'll get some food in the Flash, and you can take the first shower."

She hopped off the counter, still holding his hands. Caitrin gave him a smile that was only meant for her husband. "You silly. _We_ are going to get cleaned up."

Morcant returned her smile and was pulled along towards the bathroom. "And what if the shower doesn't fit two people?"

"That's never stopped us before," she whispered playfully.


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

The strong scent of coffee reached Caitrin's nose and she inhaled deeply, a ritual she was becoming well versed in. She let out a gentle coo and opened her eyes to see Morcant sitting in the room's only chair. He was smiling, watching her with a look in his eyes that told her how much he enjoyed the moment.

Caitrin rarely slept on her stomach, but she found it unusually comfortable in the soft bed. "Hey," she said softy.

"Hey." Morcant placed his elbow on the left arm of the chair and dropped his head to rest it on his fist. If anything, his smile was wider.

Letting out a moan, Caitrin propped herself up on her elbows and managed to turn over on her side, facing her husband. The covers felt warm, shielding her otherwise naked body underneath, and she smiled back at Morcant. "What?" she laughed.

Morcant made an expression full of innocence. "Oh, nothing." He seemed to squirm in his seat, his plush robe making an odd squeak against the chair's fabric. "I could watch you lie there for hours."

"So I can go back to sleep?" Caitrin asked with a raised eyebrow, teasing him.

Sighing, Morcant shook his head minutely. "We have a lot to do. We need to get a hold of Mahlon to tell her the cavalry is coming."

"A fleet of UNSC ships arriving in system _would_ freak everyone out." She sat up in bed, keeping the covers close to preserve a lasting warmth. Caitrin massaged her eyes with thumb and forefinger, and she let out another deep breath, bringing her mind fully awake. "When do we head out?"

Morcant shrugged, setting his mug down on an end table. "Maya won't be back for at least a few days, but the sooner the Administrator knows the better." He collected his hands together and leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. "I figured we take our time to get ready, and then head towards Milanó at dusk."

"Sounds good to me." Caitrin brought her chin up and narrowed her eyes. "So how much time do we have?"

Morcant looked off to the left of the bed where a clock was placed on the nightstand. "Well, it's half past noon now, so we should get moving in six or seven hours."

A smile tugged at the corner of Caitrin's mouth. "So how would you like to fill that time? Cleaning weapons? Gathering supplies?"

Morcant looked down at the floor. "Yeah, we probably should get on that."

Caitrin let out a muffled laugh. "How about we relax for just a little longer," she purred, slowly pulling the sheets off.

Morcant raised his head and his eyes grew wide at the sight of her. "_That_ sounds good to me." He stood up and undid his robe, pooling it at his feet.

When he laid down on the bed with her, Caitrin swooped the covers over the both of them, and the two were lost together in an ocean of fabric.

* * *

The gentle rain fell through the forest and landed in the mossy undergrowth as Caitrin and Morcant made their way through the trees under darkened skies. The woody scent of the rainfall made Caitrin smile. She followed her husband down a small hill where old leaves had collected to make the ground very slippery. Morcant turned around and offered a hand to help her down. She graciously accepted and he led her to the safety of a beaten path.

"Keep your eyes open. The entrance should be farther down a ways but my estimates might be off," Morcant said, pulling his gray raincoat's hood forward to ward off the droplets hitting his face.

"Gotcha." Caitrin followed in her husband's wake with an even bigger smile. To her, Morcant had two modes to which he was switching back and forth: the loving spouse and the hardened ONI agent, though sometimes they overlapped, giving her a renewed impression that Morcant had not become a calloused military man.

When they had finally gotten out of bed, they got dressed and prepared for a long few days. Morcant wasn't sure if they would have time to make it to the next safe-house, so he packed enough food and supplies to last for the duration in two backpacks. Caitrin had procured them new matching outfits, hers being a little big but the smallest size in the closet, and she made sure to bring something to shield them from the rain. In an attempt at secrecy, they had yet to use their glowrods, and Caitrin figured if she did end up using hers, then things had gotten worse very quickly.

She was panning her head left and right, looking for something out of place, when Morcant came to a sudden stop. "What is it?" she asked, coming up to his left.

Unmoving as if his feet were stuck in mud, Morcant frowned. "This place. Someone's been here."

Caitrin looked down at the wet path but didn't find anything to indicate recent footsteps. _Still, he's the expert_. "Are we compromised?" she asked quietly.

Morcant scanned the area with narrowed eyes before moving off to his right. "Let's hope not," he finally answered, waving her along.

He took them nearly 30 meters off the path to arrive in what passed for a drainage ditch. Water was just beginning to fill the lowest portions, but Morcant went ahead and hopped down into the ditch with a splash. Thickets and tree roots extended down the walls of the ditch, but he quickly found the access hatch he was looking for. He parted the earthen vines and pressed his hand against the locking mechanism.

While the tunnels Killian had used to escort Caitrin back to the surface were able to open with a flash of pseudo-motion, Morcant's entrance appeared more archaic, as it lowered into the dirt, rumbling stone against stone.

Caitrin eased down the short slope and stepped into the darkness of the underground tunnel. Morcant quickly followed, closing the hardened door behind him. In the quiet blackness, Caitrin could hear her husband rummaging through his pack. With a gentle click, his glowrod illuminated the dirt tunnel, and Caitrin got her first glimpse of the small, narrow passageway. Morcant had to bend at the waist in order to keep his head from hitting the ceiling, but Caitrin, being a head shorter than he, was able to walk without hindrance.

"My ONI infiltration team found an old hideout that the early revolutionaries had used as a staging ground," Morcant began to explain as he led her down the tunnel. "There we found maps marking supply caches and underground passages that burrowed underneath the Capitol city walls."

Caitrin nodded in comprehension, even though Morcant could not see her response. "They do seem rather . . . old. Even primitive."

"We never actually had to use one," he admitted.

She frowned. "Then how do you know where they end?"

"I don't, but we're limited on options." He sighed and came to a crouching stop. "It would be too risky to try and sneak our way in through the main bridge, so this is our best bet. The Innies secretly roaming the streets will be looking for me, and from what you told me, Palace Security probably has a warrant out for your arrest."

Caitrin shivered at the reminder of her altercation with Yunker. "I trust you know what you're doing. Just promise me that after all this is over, we take a long vacation somewhere closer to home."

Morcant smiled and kissed her on the cheek. "Promise."

They ventured on, taking frequent breaks so Morcant's back didn't tighten up too much. After an hour of travel, they came to a large dip in the tunnel with a slope of nearly thirty degrees.

"We must be right under the outer foundations of the wall," Morcant said. He ran his right hand along the edges of the curved walls, and paused when he felt something sharp.

"What is it?" Caitrin asked stepping closer for a better look.

"Detection netting," he answered, flicking the stub of metal with a finger. "The Innies must have burned through this with plasma torches while they bypassed the circuit altogether." He gave Caitrin a flat smile. "Risky, but they sure knew their stuff."

"Hm." Caitrin motioned forward. "Onward then?"

"Yeah, but from here on out we'll have to be as quiet as possible." Morcant started down the slope. "And hope this leads to somewhere secluded."

* * *

The sound of running water made Morcant come to a stop, turn off his glowrod, and listen carefully. The last fifty meters of the tunnel sent them on a serpentine route the would bend every ten meters, and now they could hear the end of their run.

Crawling on his hands and knees, Morcant slowly crept toward the roughly circular exit where a soft green light was filtering through cross-hatched metal bars. He stopped half a meter from their exit and peered into the other side, panning his head in every direction. Morcant turned back to Caitrin. "It's a sewer," he whispered.

_Great. Just when I get all cleaned up_ . . . "Are there signs of anyone?"

Morcant's brow furrowed. "Why would anyone want to be down in a sewer?"

"_We_ are here," Caitrin pointed out.

He snorted. "Yeah." Morcant examined the outer edges of the grate that covered the hole and found the stone had already been cut. First he pulled with no result, so he gave a push and nearly fell out into the nasty-looking liquid. He still held on to the false seal and quickly set it down on the ledge that ran down both lengths of the arched walls. "Stay close."

Caitrin nodded and followed her husband out of the tunnel and onto the meter-wide ledge. "Why do I keep running into water that smells like crap?"

Morcant replaced the grated cut-away plug and shrugged. "I think you just have an overly sensitive nose."

Caitrin wanted to laugh but was doing her best to keep her breaths short. Instead, she waved him on to lead her out of the mess.

"Let's get to the surface as soon as possible," he agreed. Keeping one hand on the wall and another out for balance, he marched down to their right, towards the source of the green light.

Caitrin did her best to not dry-heave, and she focused all her effort on not falling into the sewage flowing to her left. "So where do we go once we're topside?" she asked in an attempt at distracting herself from the pungent smell.

"There's an agricultural district on the east side of the city with an old abandoned farmhouse on the northern-most lot. That's where I was suppose to meet up with my contact, had I not been captured by the CLF," he said, coming to halt in front of a cracked, rusty door. He pulled out his silenced SMG and slowly pushed the creaking door halfway open. "Clear."

Caitrin squeezed through the door and found the room beyond nothing more than the base of a stairwell. The tiled walls were caked in mildew and the metal stairs were nearly rusted through. "You take me to the nicest places," she said with a smile.

Morcant was already halfway up the steps when he turned around and mimicked her expression.

Caitrin quickly caught up and helped Morcant push the outer door open. Rain immediately drenched their exposed heads and they pulled up their hoods, securing them. The place they found themselves in was the old, abandoned Northern District Stormwater Treatment Facility, as she found the words labeled on nearly every door, office building, and vehicle she saw in her immediate view.

The gravel underfoot felt loose and varied in size as they both started for the chain-link fence surrounding the facility. Morcant quickly peeled away an already severed section of the fence and led Caitrin out into the dark, wet streets.

Few vehicles were out in the late-night storm and even fewer pedestrians hurried about, seeking shelter wherever they could. But Morcant moved with purpose, and Caitrin kept pace beside him.

As it turned out, the agricultural district wasn't that far of a walk- conveniently, and within an hour of dodging down back alleys and side streets, they had arrived. What was _not_ convenient was the fact that the storm had knocked out the farming sector's power, casting the open fields and randomly placed buildings in near total darkness.

They stopped underneath a covered storefront at the end of a small strip mall of farmer-owned shops, using it as temporary shelter, and it allowed them a few moments without the rain. Across the street was a fenced property with a faded-lettered sign arched over the driveway that read: _Applewood Farms_. If her sense of direction was worth trusting, she figured this was their destination.

Caitrin looked at her husband and could see something was troubling him. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head, sending droplets of water off his hood to land on her face. "I don't like this. Something's wrong."

Eyes darting to the left and right, Caitrin frowned. "Is this not the right place?"

Morcant sighed. "No, Applewood Farms is correct. I just didn't think it would be this out in the open. There's plenty of other places in the city that we could have used, but this," he said, spreading his arms wide, "is a little too exposed."

Caitrin looked up and read the sign of the store they were using for cover. _Applewood Market_. She turned around and did her best to peer through the dusty window. "Maybe not," she commented, pointing a thumb towards the interior of the empty store. "Looks like this place hasn't seen business for years."

"Maybe," Morcant replied, not sounding convinced. He pulled out the SMG he had hidden under his jacket and clicked off the safety with his thumb. "Stay sharp."

Overhead, lightning flashed in a bluish tint, as they crossed the dirt street and onto the gravel driveway of the farm. Once they were inside the fence, Morcant steered over to the right, using the nearest randomly planted tree as cover for a possible unseen threat. The three-story house sat fairly deep on the property but was built on higher ground to avoid the flooding that was beginning to take effect to the lower portions of the yard. The first story windows were boarded up and the front door had a heavy lock in place, but other than those things meant to keep vandals away, the house looked like it had been abandoned only a few weeks ago. On the surface, Morcant's fears appeared well-founded.

With his back pressed against the trunk, Morcant whispered to Caitrin. "I go first. Then once I'm halfway to the next spot, you follow."

She nodded in comprehension.

"And watch the windows." Morcant set himself once more, trying to time his run till after a burst of lightning hit. A staccato resounded, followed by the strobe effect of the sky, and he was off running to an old pile of wood that had been loosely stacked beside a fallen tree ten meter from the front of the house.

Caitrin kept her gaze fixed on the upper windows of the house, but no shots rang out and no curtains were drawn. Then she was sprinting in her husband's wake, the ground squashing into little odd-shaped puddles underneath her boots. When she reached Morcant's position, she crouched down beside him, breathing heavily.

Without hesitation, he was up and moving again. Morcant swung around to the right side of the house, and waved Caitrin over.

She made the short distance without mishap, but the exposure coupled with her dread of being shot allowed Caitrin to now hear her own heartbeat in her head. It wasn't that she didn't feel safe with her husband leading her like this, but her fear was rooted in his bad feelings about a place he was to use as a sanctuary. Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself and nodded to Morcant, informing him that she was okay.

He looked at her for a few seconds before securing his weapon behind his back. Morcant then began running his hands along the stony surface of the house's outer wall, searching for something. He came to an abrupt stop at a glossy black stone and gave it a firm push. With little resistance, the stone retracted into the wall. Morcant took a step back and looked up to see multiple, half-meter sized stones jutting out to form hand and foot holds that led up to a second story window. He began to climb.

She didn't have to say it, but Caitrin felt as nervous as she could have without actually screaming. She divided her attention between watching him silently take the hike up the side of the house and sweeping her pistol's line of fire around the yard, ready to give him some form of suppressing fire from below.

When she spared a glance upward, she saw Morcant vanish into the window and figured it was her turn to climb. Despite the rain lashing down, the surface of the stones felt textured and allowed her a firm grip for both hands and boots. She knew that once she was inside the safety of the house, her heart rate would slow and she'd breath easier.

Below her, the lower-most jutting stones started to return to their original place, hidden against the others, and Caitrin tried to quicken her pace. She still had three more holds to go till she could grab for the window sill, but the rate the stones were retracting . . . "Morcant," she hissed, trying to keep her voice low and still keep a firm grip on the second to last hold. "Morcant!"

Whether he couldn't hear her or if he was preoccupied with securing the room, Caitrin was on her own. Her right foot slipped against the stone that disappeared underneath and she quickly pushed herself up with her left leg, straining to reach the window with an outstretched hand. She found the solid window frame with her left hand and held on to it for dear life. The block under her left foot started to shake and Caitrin quickly swung her right arm up and got her elbow to lock over the sill, using her forearm and bicep as a clamp.

With the added weight of her pack and rain-soaked pants, she knew hanging there for an extended period of time was not the best way to test her tired muscles. She leaned forward, into the second story, and straightened her left arm with all her strength. Finally managing to get her upper torso over the lip of the window, she collapsed inside, her pack's contents spilling out on the hardwood floor.

One of the three glowrods she had been carrying took a tumble and the activation switch hit the ground at just the right angle to turn it on. Swearing under her breath, almost inaudible from the shear volume of the rain hitting the roof a story above her, Caitrin got to her hands and knees to follow and switch off the rolling light.

She was about to wrap her wet fingers around the barrel of the glowrod when the beam of light briefly illuminated a moving figure along the back wall. "Morcant?" she called quietly.

The response was a muffled gurgle.

The glowrod rolled to her left and she fumbled to find a decent grip. She quickly brought the light to bear down on the previously known spot where she saw movement, but Morcant wasn't there. She waved the glowrod back and forth till she found something that made her heart cease in her chest.

A dark figure had wrapped his arms around Morcant's throat, locking his head in a sleeper hold, and was starting to bring her husband to his knees. Panic rose up from her stomach, but she was still able to unholster her pistol and aim it at the two men struggling with each other. "Hold it!" she yelled, unable to keep her voice down any longer but managing to aim the tight beam of light at the assailant's face.

The man winced at the blinding light and Morcant used the brief second of disorientation to drop a forceful elbow into the attacker's gut. As the wind was knocked out of the man, he slackened his grip around Morcant's throat and stumbled backward. Morcant quickly brought his other elbow around to strike the man in the face, sending him to the floor with a thud.

She followed the man's fall with both glowrod and pistol . . .

"No, wait, Cait," Morcant quickly said through a wheezing cough. He held up his hand to halt any lethal force she was about to administer.

Knowing he was now under the watchful eye of two, the man started to get up to his hands and knees, keeping his chin close to his chest.

"_Don't_ move," Morcant ordered through clenched teeth, his voice more under control.

Caitrin handed her husband the pistol and widened the beam of her glowrod to encompass the man's dog-like stance.

Then her stomach turned to ice when she saw the back of the man's neck as his head hung in defeat. There, somewhat faded from too many days under different suns, imprinted at the base of his hairline and wrapping around to the right was a modified UNSC crest tattoo. Not like the ones marines get during their first shore-leave, but one with the eagle in full detail, a bone clenched in its beak.

_The exact same tattoo Kinnison had. _Caitrin's eyes grew wide with shock. "Kinnison?" she breathed.

Lifting his head up with one eye partly closed, trying to pierce the glare of the light, Kinnison's face scrunched up into a frown. "Collin?"

Morcant snorted. "You two know each other?"

Caitrin absently nodded her head, still keeping her eyes on Kinnison. "We were both part of the Skyline Transport Security Detail. What are you doing _here_?"

Kinnison leaned back, resting on his haunches, and lifted his hands up in surrender. "I could ask you two the same thing, but I'm not the one with the gun." Despite the growing redness on his left cheek, Kinnison turned his face to flint and remained silent, defiant.

"Were you following me?" she demanded.

"Kinda," he said mildly. He swallowed and then lifted his chin. "Though there were times when I wish I could have taken the beltway instead of the tram," Kinnison added, narrowing his eyes.

"What?" Caitrin blurted out, frowning at the odd statement.

"Was the beltway backed up?" Morcant asked curiously, taking a step forward.

Kinnison rotated his head mechanically to face Morcant. "No, it was shut down."

Exhaling loudly, Morcant lowered the pistol and shook his head. "You are my contact?"

Kinnison nodded and slowly stood up straight.

Caitrin watched as the two men stared openly at each other. Then it all clicked. If she was guessing right, she had just witnessed a proper ONI contact challenge. She imagined if Kinnison had given the wrong second response, Morcant would have put him down right then and there. _But apparently Kinnison was on their side all along_. "Let me get this straight," she began, setting the glowrod on the ground to bounce off the ceiling, giving the room a soft atmosphere. "You knew he was alive?" she asked with a bitter expression while pointing a thumb at her husband.

"It's okay, Cait," Morcant soothed, taking her hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "He can explain things now, right?"

Working his jaw experimentally, Kinnison pressed his lips together. "It may not be best to tell you everything."

"Then be discrete, but at least justify your actions," Caitrin said, folding her arms across her chest and feeling less frazzled.

Kinnison seemed to mull over that thought before finally nodding once. "I report to Colonel Ross; he was the one that got me on _Emissary_. I was there to keep an eye on the Ambassador and his crony, Yunker." He shifted his weight to his right leg. "That stunt he pulled with the Cryo-pod? Well, let's just say it's on a list of growing charges."

"So you were after Thorin and Yunker?" Caitrin asked as she accepted an old creaking chair from Morcant.

"Yeah, but I was under strict orders not to act until I had more proof of their involvement with a possible Insurrectionist faction here on Andvari." He nodded to Morcant. "A task dovetailing to the one you were given but had failed to report back on," he commented with an undertone of remorse. "There's suppose to be another agent I was to link up with, but they were never at the rendezvous points. I assume that person is you?" he asked Caitrin with a furrowed brow.

She shook her head. "Maya Barros is the one you were probably looking for." Caitrin let out a short laugh. "She and I had you pinned as a possible conspirator, but then, at the Palace riot, you were injured."

"Yes," Kinnison replied, rubbing his head where he had been hit. "I knew they were going to ship me back aboard _Emissary_, so I fled the medical center before they could detain me." He spread his arms wide to encompass the room. "And I've been here ever since, waiting for another member of Section Three."

The sound of the rain began to die down as they all remained silent while Morcant paced back and forth. He eventually came to a stop and crossed the distance to Kinnison with a hand ready to shake. "I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner. I've was . . . delayed." He smiled at Caitrin. "But if my wife hadn't come all this way to find me, I'd still be in a cell several hundred feet below ground."

Doing his best to hide the shock from his face, Kinnison let a smile tug at the corner of his lips and shook Morcant's hand with vigor. "I apologize for the altercation earlier." He leaned his head toward Caitrin. "And I've seen your wife under pressure; she's as strong as they come."

Feeling warmth redden her cheeks, Caitrin couldn't help but blush. "I had- _have_ a good example in my husband."

Kinnison smile fully, softening his tough-guy image. "So, shall we continue the investigation where you left off?" he asked Morcant.

Shaking his head while returning the grin, Morcant placed his left hand on Kinnison's shoulder. "Not exactly. We have new mission parameters."

"Oh?" he replied with a raised eyebrow.

"We have our evidence." He looked over at Caitrin. "And we're going to secure a high-profile asset."


End file.
